


Skyline

by TeeJayWyatt



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, F/M, Hand Jobs, John doesn’t play about his girl, Murder, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Sex, Smut, This is nasty NASTY, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 85,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeeJayWyatt/pseuds/TeeJayWyatt
Summary: Your simple world is turned outside down when you become the object of affection for the World's Deadliest Assassin after crossing paths.
Relationships: John Wick & Original Female Character(s) of Color, John Wick/Reader, John Wick/You
Comments: 76
Kudos: 244





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I binged all the John Wick films in one day and suddenly came to the conclusion that I'm love with Keanu Reeves (and the John Wick character). So that's how this fic ultimately happened. This is going to be another black reader insert fic because why not? Still don't have any idea if I'm good at writing one but I'll take the leap anyway. This might end up being a one-shot fanfic or it might not. I probably won't update again until after Christmas. Sad, I know but I've got to finish my finals strong. The good news is that I'll be working on a new fic soon and updating another. Until then, happy holidays! Enjoy!

The New York Public Library on 53rd Third Street was always deadly silent when you walked in the huge place. The consistent sounds of your boots on the polished floor ever present over all else and honestly - it bothered you. If there was one thing you hated, it was making noise in a completely quiet space. The action always sent a spike of anxiety up your spine in response since it drew unwanted attention to you. Something you obviously were not fond of. One could in fact hear a pen drop at the front entrance from the very back of the library if they paid the barest amount of attention. And you were inclined to believe that your assumption was not just an exaggeration.

Per usual, there were people seated at long tables reading or thoughtfully looking over documents. If someone wanted peace and quiet while they undertook their normal proclivities in the bright, inviting sanctuary book archive then this was the perfect place. It was definitely one of your favorite places to go. Being a junior in college, you find yourself here in the place quite often. It's in this very institution that you study for courses or simply have an existential breakdown about college as a whole. Basically conduct the normal life of a university student.

You walk to the front desk were a middle aged woman sat reading a thick book with her glasses perched low on her nose - the sight of which made her look much older than she actually was. Having been through this song and dance more time than you could count, you waited patiently for her to acknowledge you. Pulling her eyes from the book, the woman set it down and addressed you in a low, phlegmatic tone.

"What are you looking for?"

"Not That Bad by Roxane Gay please."

The woman nodded once, turning to type the keys of her computer.

The book was just something to hold you over until your copy of 'Angry Black Girl' by Elexus Jionde arrived from the mail. You were a huge fan of hers and copping her book was the ultimate appreciation. It seemed like it'd taken you forever to finally order the book off Amazon. You were the type to garner stacks of unread books at home and still fawn over the library and bookstores. It was a testament to how lazy you are when it comes to prioritizing.

Another woman approached the two of you with said book in hand, giving it to the seated desk attendant who looked it over and then handed it to you.

"Here you are. Due date is two weeks from now if you don't renew it. Enjoy."

"Thank you." You smiled, walking away from the corner with the book in hand, intent to give home before it got too dark and start preparing dinner. Your friends had already invited themselves over the moment they found out you planned to cook. There was nothing in the world that could stop them from eating up everything you cooked.

The sounds of the bustling city, particularly in Times Square were nearly unending. Living in the Big Apple was quite the one in a lifetime experience, seeing as your family was originally from the southern portion of the United States. The illumination, HIDs, and LEDs never failed to fascinate you with the various advertisements and promos. There were an unlimited amount of clubs, bars, theaters, shops, and clubs for people to partakes in. And yet, there it was again - that ominous feeling of being watched every time you stepped out of your apartment. Technically you had no real reason to feel so uneasy - or so you thought.

Working in a bar on the late shift came with its own set of hazards. Firstly, you were a female bartender working the night shift. What possessed go into this line of work, you would never know. You just knew the pay check was just above average and you needed to pay your bills and tuition. Though it wasn't really worth the harassment and disrespect you received while you performed your job, you tried not to let it bother you as much. After the first few instances, you'd started dressing in unattractive, conservative clothing just to deter men from hounding you. You didn't think people genuinely understood just how terrifying it is to be a woman in this day and age.

After pleas to your employer Rob to simply allow you to clean glasses in the back had gone unacknowledged you did your best to cope with the inconveniences that had started to happen more frequently. Rob being the absolute scumbag that he had insisted that you being out on the floor caught the drunken customers and brought in more tips - the drunken customers in this case being gang members. He essentially told you to put up with the maltreatment unless you wanted to find another job. Something you weren't capable of doing at this particular point in time. People like him were the absolute worst kind of humans.

Speaking of terrible humans, the bar just so happened to be filled with them tonight. Majority of the customers were crude burly Russian men, if their accents gave anything anything away. The bar was used to hosting all sorts of people, so this was not uncommon in any sense of the word. What you didn't like was that this particular group of people had not problem treating you like you were an object to cater to their needs rather than a living, breathing person. And so you were not accustomed to dealing with their rude, commanding demands and had no plans to adapt to them anytime soon. So instead of giving into your baser instincts you commenced to working quietly and silently amongst the scuffle of cackles and loud discussions.

"Bring another round over here doll!" One man shouts to you as you stand behind the corner.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you fill three more glasses with whiskey and place them on a round serving platter. This was their tables fifth round within the hour. You listened to their conversation as you quietly sat their glasses on the table.

"See I told you. The American whiskey is cheap and lacking in quality. I'd rather have Roguska over this shit." The man grumbled to his companions, one of which had a scantily dressed woman sitting on his lap. The other man seemed content to simply smoke a cigarette and observe. Your face burned and you nearly stumbled when the guy who called you over, leaned over in an intrusive attempt to put his face near your crotch.

"Hey there, malen'kiy tsvetok. Would you like to entertain me and company tonight." He purred to you, his snake-like eyes running over the length of your body.

You pretended not to hear his words, trying to fight the crawling of your skin at the tone of his suggestive voice. You didn't have time for this sort of thing tonight. You were tired as hell and eager to get home within the next hour. Only placing the last drink on the table and turning to walk away. A strong hand grasped your wrist, pulling you back.

Dismissive to your uncommunicative behavior, the man continued to press on with his demand disguised as a proposal. "Oh no. Don't go just yet, stay here for a while longer."

For all the drunk, perverted customers you'd ever dealt with, no one had ever taken things this far. His slmily hands on you made things all the worse.

Lips turning down into a frown, you tried to pry your wrist loose. "Let go. I need to get back to work."

"Better be careful Anatoly. I hear the temyaya kozha are the hardest to break." The man with the cigarette declared, a well-placed shit eating grin on his face. "Though I hear the surrender is beyond rewarding."

"Can't be any harder than taming a horse." The man responded, his opposite hand reaching to roughly grab a handful of your backside.

Your closed hand found the man's cheek half a second later, the sound echoing loudly through the bar and catching many other patron's attention. The full glass of alcohol was then thrown in the man's face for good measure if the slap didn't do enough of its job. It certainly was enough for him to release you. The rise of anger was long awaited as you stared down the man with no shortcomings of loathing. The constant sexual harassment, disrecpect and ultimately being compared to an animal was enough to send deep spiral of vehemence course through your veins.

While the other two men at the table and a few other customers chuckled lowly, the drenched man found nothing amusing about his predicament. Standing from his seat, a gun was subsequently pulled from the man's waistband and aimed at squarely at your chest. You could see inside the dark barrel of the weapon and it looked way bigger now that he was pointing it at you.

"You shouldn't done that doll." He growled through clenched teeth, eyes burning with an anger that almost made you wish you hadn't slapped or throwing a drink in his face. Now he was gearing up to shoot you in front of the whole bar. You refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cower in fear...not when they were completely in the wrong. If this was how you'd die then so be it.

Beyond any other interactions, all eyes had turned away from the commotion towards the door, where as a man calmly walked through it.

The bar had gone completely silent in a matter of seconds. The tension in the air was stifling. Your spine instinctively straightened as you sensed the murderous tenseness in the room skyrocket.

From the moment you lay eyes on him, you knew he meant business. The black James Bond suit amplified the assumption times ten. His profile consisted of sleek black hair that rested just above his broad shoulders. With sharp, focused brown eyes. Perfectly trimmed facial hair, features ruggedly handsome, the pure essence of stoic.

You almost faltered as he did a quick perusal over you before turning his attention back towards the previously rowdy patrons who were without a doubt disturbed by his presence. The look on their faces emphasized various levels of heightened fear. For some reason, they were terrified of the newcomer of whom they were familiar with. Everything changed within the next breath, as your aggressor rotated the gun in the man's direction. This action proved to be a major mistake.

The sound of a gunshot barely registered in your mind before you even visibly perceived the man being blown back over a neighboring table.

You promptly threw yourself onto the floor as chaos ensued and multiple gunshots rang out over the space. You did your best to stay out of the way by swiftly crawling over behind the corner for refuge.

This was by no means your first time witnessing a shootout. Maybe you were desensitized to everything due to the violence that took place in New York on a daily basis. In some areas, crime ran unchecked and rampant with no hope of ceasing anytime soon. This was certainly not how you expected your night to play out. If there was a certain point in life where a person questioned how they ended up in a particular situation, now would be that time for you. By this point, you were thoroughly convinced that this was your record scratch freeze frame moment to ask 'Hey, you're probably wondering how I ended up here.' Like seriously, only you could have ended up in this kind of predicament.

Like an idiot you chanced a glance your the corner for a brief view of the anarchy. It was hard to focus over the sound of pistols firing at the same time. Never had you seen someone use a gun with such lethality. Shooting a nearby man in the head with frightening accuracy. He essentially took out every Russian gangster in the bar single handedly. Smashing a half empty beer glass onto one man's head then using an existing shard to impale a man in the eye, before shooting him in the head at point blank range. His favored method was simply quick headshots to ensure the targets were dead, leaving brains all over the chairs and tables. The sheer brutality of the acts left you feeling a bit lightheaded.

Thereafter, bloodied bodies littered the floor. The only person left standing was the emotionless suited man. You figured that this would be a good time to make your escape, crouching down once more you tried to make your way into around the opposite side of the corner in order to make a break for the door. You silently cursed as stepped on broken glass along the way, the pieces crunching beneath your shoes. You prayed to the God above that it wasn't enough to attract his attention - you'd already had another attempt made on your life. There wasn't room for another.

A pair of sleek black dress shoes and slacks entered your direct line of vision just as you reached the end of the nook. The man stood towering over you as you were posed on your hands and knees upon the floor. The state of bewilderment had you feeling much like a deer in headlights, your eyes widened comically while his eyes arrested yours. A quick glance downward confirmed that he still held a gun. Gaining your wits back you stood up from the floor and dusted your clothes free of any debris - scrambling to find something sensible to say to the man.

"Um...hi."

Smooth. Real smooth.

"Hello." He answered.

Honestly, you weren't expecting that. God, you hated that you were nearly shaking just being near him - not out of fear but from sheer coldness of his demeanor. The thought of what would take place now that you two were the only two living people in the room seriously scared you. What was to become of her? You'd seen plenty of crime shows and come to the conclusion that it wasn't exactly wise to leave a witness after committing such heinous acts against other human beings. Regardless if they deserved it or not. And in this case, they definitely did.

You mean, who just shoots over a dozen people without batting a single eye. What in the Call of Duty Black Ops?

The thought of dying so early in your young life was not at all comforting or appealing in any sense. But at this point, was there really anything you could do to prevent that from happening? Was it possible to convince the man not to shoot you dead on the spot? It was highly unlikely. Obviously if the man wanted you dead then he'd make damn sure to accomplish that. With everything you'd just witnessed - there was no doubt in your mind that he was fully capable of snubbing you out before you even got a chance to run.

And so you stood rooted to the spot - totally expecting to meet the same fate as the poor dead bastards littering the establishments floor in bloody heaps.

A burst of vocalised anger rang out behind you as well as a small clicking sound that suspiciously reminded you of a pistol. Whoever it was, they were preparing themselves to fire their weapon. That all changed in the blink of an eye when another gun discharged and warm liquid spattered the side of your face. You vaguely registered the rattle of a body hitting the floor, too spooked to move, eyes widened to a larger degree.

The man seemed to notice your shock and discomfort, eyes briefly shining with concern before it disappeared altogether like it was never there. Watching quietly as he retrieved a nearby wet towel reserved for wiping down the counter and began the process of cleaning the blood from your face. This night held a reputable record for surprises from being in the vicinity of a shootout to having your face cleaned of blood by a literal killer. The painstaking care he took to clean your face spoke volumes about his character. Maybe he was not just the ruthless murderer she'd judged him to be only moments after he appeared.

"Your shift is over. You can go now." He kindly suggested to her.

Immediately you were taken aback, you didn't expect the man to be so...cordial after he'd just killed slaughtered the rest of the bar. Frankly, he didn't fit the bill of a terrifying killer. Regardless of the fact, you were beyond thankful that he was generous enough to allow you to be able to walk away from the massacre unharmed.

That was the first time you became aware of one another. Though you had no idea that it certainly wouldn't be the last.

You'd already emailed your professor and told him you weren't feeling well and couldn't make it to class tomorrow so you could go get box braids. Your appointment was made well a month in advance with your braider Shannon. She was always willing to do your hair no matter what style you decided on. Midterms were fast approaching and you needed a convenient hairstyle without the hassle.

You entered the corner beauty supply store, ignoring the Asian man standing behind the corner who was known for following customers, who were for the most part black, around the store. In was well known in the black community how racial prejudice rampant in black hair stores that were usually operated by Asian men who treated customers like thieves-in-waiting. To be treated with such disrespect when the business basically relied on your money was ridiculous. Having to buy products from a store like this seriously pissed you off. You would happily take your business elsewhere if only the other beauty supply wasn't twenty miles away.

After short selection period, you purchased five packs of braiding hair and promptly left the shop. No amount of uninterested small talk with the man could undo the hostility that was clearly done shamelessly. There was no point in faking it you summarized as you walked and outside onto the sidewalk. It was after seven, despite that fact the city never stopped it's normal hussle and bussle. Regardless you still hated going out by yourself at nighttime.

Bag in hand, you rounding a narrow corner, entering a familiar alleyway about a block from your apartment complex. Unbeknownst to you, three suited suited men stood in waiting, blocked off the opposite end of the alley towards your apartment. Immediately, you stopped in your tracks.

"Hello there little girl, can we have a few moments of your time?" The man addressed you in a thick Russian accent, the faux friendly smile was just that. Faux.

A few minutes of your time? Even if you asked you knew their reasoning couldn't be good. But what did they want from you? There was an idea. You were the only living witness to a bloody massacre the other night that you still hadn't recovered from. You could bet that the deceased men from the bar were his subordinates. The men were obviously other lackeys with the men from the bar that night. Could they be here to kill you? The idea could be too over the top.

"May I ask why?" You queried, in a low voice.

"You don't exactly need to know why...just that we'd like to have a word with you."

Switching the hair of hair to your other hand, you wondered if you had time to retrieve the mace from your purse."Sorry but I need to get going."

Chuckling like the simple conversation was the most entertaining thing in the world, the man remarked. "Nonsense, this will only take a few minutes."

Without delay, you turned made a run towards the way you came, determined to get away from the dangerous men that seeked to do you harm. By mischance, alarming the sight of two other men suddenly blocking your getaway, made your heckles raise. This was not good. These people were preventing your only two escape.

Once you turned back to the first man, you watched as he spread out his arms in an innocent gesture. "The sooner we talk, the sooner you can be on your way."

Already fearful and annoyed you cut out a curt reply. "Okay start."

"Three nights ago, in the bar where you worked. About fifteen of our men were killed. You wouldn't happen to have witnessed this would you?"

Blood suddenly running cold, you swallowed, offer a small nod. "Yeah. But I wasn't the one who shot them."

His brows turned up in mocking fashion. "Oh we know you weren't the one who shot them. In fact we know the man did."

"Then why are you here asking me about this." That was the million dollar question. If they knew the guy then why don't they just go after him instead of you?

"The issue with you is not that you witnessed the event. It's because he allowed you to go free. Why that is of course...we might have a general idea seeing as this particular man is not known for his mercy or compassion. Might you be one of his comrades."

Panic filled the recesses of your mind at the implication. "Comrade!? I'd never seen him before in my life. I swear." You shouted.

"Oh? Then why are you alive?"

"I don't fucking know! He killed them and told me I could go home. That's it."

For several long minutes, the men merely stood there and regarded you, not offering a single word of what they might've thought of your explanation. Maybe they were considering letting you go. You truly hoped they were. You hadn't done done anything to deserve getting harmed.

Eventually, the front man gave you a nod. "I believe you…"

You breathed a short sigh of relief. Sadly, that relief quickly turned to terror when he pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed straight at your person. "So sorry. But we can't have any loose ends...I'm afraid we'll have to get rid of you."

Before you could even think of any other response that could keep you from being shot down in the street - the shrill bang of a gun being fired from behind had you withdrawing within yourself and tightly closing your eyes. Vocal noises of panic and gunshots then sounded out around you while you stupidly stood still in the middle with your eyes closed. For approximately ten seconds numerous shots were discharged before the last thing you could hear was a shell casing hitting the ground signalling that everything was over. This however wasn't enough to convince you that everything was all peaches and cream just yet.

You didn't even hear the nearing footsteps under a hand placed itself on your shoulder. With a scream on your lips, you whipped around to see a familiar face. The very man who was the source of tonight's threat on your life. He was still dressed in a clean black suit.

Placing a hand over your heart, you tried to regain your composure although you were very nearly close to being killed. "Oh my god. You scared me."

Despite the emotionless facade, he spoke in a clear concise voice. "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

Yeah, no shit.

"Thank you for saving me. Again."

That was when things really started to change.

The bright light from the television gleamed throughout the otherwise darkened living room space. You were supposed to be working an interview assignment for your broadcasting class but the lull of procrastination prevailed. Once your food is cooking on the stove you'd sat down and watched reruns of the Fresh Prince which was much more appealing opposed to the homework you'd been putting off for the past three days. Usually you'd work ahead and have work done well before it's due date so it wouldn't throw a monkey wrench in any upcoming plans your friends. But right now you just couldn't be bothered.

You fully expected to wake up tomorrow and realize that nothing about your life had fixed itself overnight. That fact you were legally an adult was fucking hysterical.

After being a witness to some pretty bad relationships between your friends and family alike, you swore that you would never allow yourself to be put in a situationship with a man under any circumstances. And as fate would have it - you were currently neck deep in one with a mysterious, professional killer. Never say never you guess.

Far more importantly, you find yourself questioning his identity. Just who was he exactly? You often wondered what he did for a living that required him to kill selected people. He could be a twisted police officer in some way, shape or form. Though you highly doubted that. You didn't know much about police training but you knew his capabilities extended well beyond that of even the most proficient law enforcement agent. An assassin maybe? Well maybe that was a little far fetched but you truly didn't have much to go on. To even suggest that an assassin was based in New York was possibly a sign that maybe you'd seen way too many action films with a similar circumstance.

Though one thing was for certain - he was indeed a killer and a good one at that. Surprisingly, that didn't worry you as nearly as much as your acceptance of the reality and subsequent reaction of merely continuing on with your life as if nothing was amiss. Not once had you indicated to him that you were bothered by his 'occupation'. Never once even initiating a conversation about it - just wanting to mind your own business.

Learning quickly that he was a man of few words - even when he did speak he didn't mince them. honest and straightforward. It was with him that the old saying 'Beware the quiet ones' rang especially true. Of course he was a gentleman.

It was enough to feign like things were fine despite the fact you were letting a man whose name you didn't even know yet rearrange your guts from time to time.

Imagine inviting a guy into your home as a kind gesture of thanks and then the next moment he was deep inside of you abusing your cervix. They'd gone from point A to B in only a matter of moments with no explanation whatsoever. There just wasn't any time to properly process it. No time to question it. And so they never had a discussion about what this was between them. You weren't quite sure if he considered you to be his lover, just that you both had an understanding. Though you weren't exactly sure you wanted to just let it be. The topic would have to be explored sometime.

You consider yourself to be very bold and confident but when he was in close proximity - you quickly withdrew into yourself like a turtle in its shell. He was simply a different breed of man. The type of man that you had to tread lightly around. There would be no running over him like he was a pushover. You might've gotten away scot free doing this with your previous suitors but you knew better than to think he'd permit such conduct from you. He was an apex predator; a skilled executioner capable of dispatching over a dozen armed assailants. A one man army. He couldn't be fucked with. Ever.

You were catapulted out of your thoughts when Alexis and Jasmine practically barraged into your apartment like they owned the place, barely offering you so much as a greeting on their way to the kitchen. Once they fixed their plate of food, the three of you gathered at the kitchen island and the wave of gossip soon started.

"So where's your man-friend?" Alexis asked with a teasing smile.

Jasmine nodded from her place in the kitchen, carrying a sprite in her hand. "Yeah. I want to know more about this mystery boyfriend of yours. Why haven't we seen me yet."

You shrug at the question. "I don't know. I haven't seen him for about a week." And it had been a long week of not seeing him, of not knowing where he was. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly worried. "And he's not my boyfriend."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Yeah whatever. What's his name again?"

You lips pursed together and you looked away in embarrassment. "I thought I told y'all that I don't know his name yet."

Jasmine sat her drink down on the countertop. "Wait wait wait...so you don't know his name but you've been letting him buss you down in your house...in your bed. For weeks at that."

Bringing a spoon full of macaroni to your lips, you hesitantly pondered the direct question before deciding to evade the question. "Well it doesn't always happen in my bed."

"You know what I mean. I'm really surprised at you. This is the kind of thing I'd expect from Alexis' scatterbrained ass."

Alexis turned to give Jasmine a look that heavily mirrored the Nick Young gif that you loved to use in the groupchat. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the thought. "There's nothing wrong with living on the edge for a little bit. You just gotta be careful sometimes."

"And just where does the careful part come in for you bitch because you are not careful. You reckless as hell."

"You don't have any room to talk Miss Fuck after the first date."

You nearly choked on the food, trying to stifle the upcoming laugh and it ended up coming out as a scream.

Jasmine said, as her mouth twisted into a half smile, she didn't even deny the accusation. "First of all, that was a one time thing. And he was fine as hell, you've done the same thing."

"Mmmhh." Alexis answered, giving you a look and sipping innocently at her drink.

"This conversation isn't even about me so let's keep it that way. Now back to you…" Jasmine stated, pointing a finger in your direction. "What's the tea? Is it just a sex with no title thing?"

You actually had to take the time to process your response. "On his end it might just be sex to him."

The woman was quick to wave her hand dismissively. "No no. The real question is - is it just sex to you? And don't lie either because you will."

Shoulders sagging in defeat, you sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. Maybe. I know I care enough for him. Even if he did come around and we didn't have sex I probably wouldn't mind. I kind of really enjoy his company in any capacity."

"Do you like him in that way or are you just dickmatised? Because I know the feeling and let me just say...it's nothing to joke about. You ever got your wig fucked off?"

"Shut the fuck up Alexis."

"It's just a question. You the one actin all funny about it." Alexis says, laughing at you though her and Jasmine were waiting on your answer, watching you expectantly with serious yet amused eyes.

"Okay and!?"

"...It might've happened and it might not."

The two of them burst out laughing uncontrollably and you have to place a hand over your mouth to keep from joining them. They were so goofy at times it was downright ridiculous.

"Is he one of those men that as soon as they get theirs they don't care if you finish or not?" Jasmine asked, her brows quirking.

"No he's really attentive and his stamina is out of this world. By the time he's made once I've already had three while working toward my fourth."

Jasmine gave a look of approval. "Damn sis. I wish I could find me somebody like that. The guys I mess with get that nut and are done for two whole business days."

Alexis shook her head. "Tragic."

"I just got lucky I guess." You said.

That was undoubtedly the understatement of the century.

Alexis got up and started looking through all the kitchen cabinet much to your and Jasmine's confusion. "We need to drink. Where's the Paul Masson?"

Your neck turned so fast it almost snapped. "Bitch get out of my kitchen. We are not getting drunk on a Tuesday night. I have shit to tomorrow."

"Ugh, y'all are so lame."

"Rightfully so."

After your girls had gotten their fill of food and juicy conversation they'd taken their leave and left you alone in the apartment once more. Besides it was nearing ten and they should've left for home earlier. After dark, that's where the danger really lurked about in the New York streets.

A distinct knock at the door drew you attention from the screen and you stared at the door for a few moments before getting up from the couch. Peeping through the small peephole proved useless as whoever was on the other side had casted a dark shadow, preventing her from seeing who was on the other side. You clutched the knob idly, twisting it to pull open the door. You expected to find your friends standing there, seeing as how they often left important items like keys at your apartment when they left.

The blood in your veins chilled the second you beheld the arduous brown orbs staring into yours. The look made you froze up in the doorway. There stood the man who'd been on your mind for quite some time. Your stone faced savior stood in his normal suit, hair slicked back from his face, eyes burning with a recognizable emotion. An emotion you were quick to ascertain. However, there were numerous small cuts and a bruise on his face, as if he'd been in some violent altercation. An altercation that he was no doubt the victor. For a man that you knew kept himself in peak physical condition, the wounds were surprising. Nevertheless, the wounds were still a source of worry for on your end and you entertained the thought of running to get your first aid kit.

Being the highly perceptive man he was, he acknowledged the concern on your face, brows drawing down in a look that exhibited no cause for interest. In other words, he was not bothered by the wounds and you shouldn't be either. Immediately, you felt very vulnerable under his hard gaze, your exposed legs starting to feel like jello. Face heating up as you realised that he was unwittingly drawing you into the depths of his powerful focus. Once your cognizance caught up you noticed that you were just allowing him to stand out in the hallway while rudely staring in his face. Flushing, you stepped back to permit him entrance inside, which he wordlessly obliged.

He stood in the space of the apartment, before uttering in his low timbre, "I hope I'm not imposing at this hour." His voice was deep and masculine, it really fit the bill for the killer image he had going. Truthfully, you were somewhat intimidated by him and being in such an intimate predicament with him any amplified that by ten. Though you'd never known him not to be reserved and polite.

Your mind was full of uncertainty and you were quick to lapse into a bought of silence as you noticed that he wore his extremely guarded expression as usual. You were clad in an oversized t-shirt with only white panties underneath and fluffy socks while he was dressed in his customary flawless black suit. By the time the food was prepared was prepared, there wasn't really anything to do but wait for them to arrive. And you were raised to clean as you cooked so at least your apartment was presentable. The same could not be said for your appearance however.

"No of course not! Um, I cooked dinner if your hungry. You can help yourself. If you'd like." You sheepily stated.

"You changed your hair."

Your hand unconsciuosly reached up to touch the hair. "Uh yeah. I know you're used to seeing the huge pineapple puff sitting on top of my head."

Great. Now you were shy.

"You can change the tv channel. I was watching a show but I've already seen all the episodes." You stated before venturing into the kitchen to wash the few plates and utensils in the sink. From there you quickly settled into the mundane process of rinsing and washing. It might be seen as rude to just up and leave the living room but it was a welcome distraction from the individual in your apartment that you didn't even want to look at. This wasn't the first time he'd shown up at random and likely wouldn't be the last. And though you'd never let him see that you were always eager to be in his presence, you'd rather die than alert him of the fact that your heart seemed to want to pound out of your chest when he was around. The trick was to feign nonchalance.

And often you didn't know what to do with yourself in his presence. There was no playing it cool around him. Hell, there was barely any real dialogue between you two and you always find yourself losing the little staring contests that get unintentionally initiated since you're unable to maintain eye contact for longer than five seconds. Only enough tension to cut through butter proof glass in a single stroke.

You didn't realise that you'd zoned out until a familiar heat signature overshadowed your form.

You took a deep breath, the hair on the back of your neck not stand on end as you realized that he was silently standing right behind you. Footsteps had not alerted you to his presence, no he was too stealthy for that - it was the familiar musk of gunpowder and consistent light breaths of air against your skin. You learned not to underestimate the time it took for him to close the distance between you two with rapid fashion. You continued on with your task, pretending as if you didn't know he was there; too nervous to take a chance and decide on another course of action.

Against your own will, you could feel the excitement rising. It was as if your body knew what was coming and started to anticipate the next course of action. Adrenaline rushing within your veins soon followed. You felt that dangerous, lethal energy from him, the one what would soon reduce you to a submissive, simpering mess in a matter of minutes.

You almost flinched when the man delved into your neck, burying his face in your neck, inhaling the sweet scent lingering on the skin. His steady arms wrapped your danity waist, doing nothing further simply engulfing you in a warm embrace.

Subtly glancing over your shoulder, you observed him quietly elegantly unbuttoning his white dress shirt. He didn't take the fabric off completely, he only undid the first five buttons exposing the expanse of his sculpted chest. There wasn't one time where you could recall getting flustered over a man exposing the slightest bit of skin. You weren't a young schoolgirl fawning over a new-found crush; you were an adult woman fully capable of controlling her emotions. At least when he was not present.

Thinking of what would take place between you two after such a long absence instantly transported your mind into a trance-like state of lust. Every nerve ending began to come alive under the touch of his deadly hands. Every inch of your body suddenly feeling abnormally sensitive and longed for his tough to grace your body. He was well-versed in the art of seducing a woman, the process almost entirely punctilious.

One hand placed itself against the small of your back, applying just enough pressure to push your top half forward, essentially bending you over the surface of the sink. Apparently, the man didn't give a damn that you were busy washing dishes. It seemed as though his absence had taken a toll on him as well. It had been too long since you'd received his libidinous affections and now that you were faced with the reality of him actually being here now; sent thrills up your spine.

The man moved to languidly reposition himself to kneel on the floor behind you; large hands simultaneously taking hold of your hips. You let a small startled gasp as he began to explore your bottom half, hands rubbing and massaging your curvaceous backside - generously admiring the glorious swell of the soft globes. You'd found out early on that he had a fascination with it and obviously was not used to dealing with women that had the same attributes. Sliding his palms down to your amble thighs, seemingly to ease the tension out of them. He didn't like it when your were apprehensive and often worked to ensure you were comfortable with his ministrations.

Fingers hooked on the inside of your panties, easing them down past your legs, ensure himself access to your femininity. Moist pink flesh met his perceptive gaze, swollen folds encasing your entrance, the flesh growing increasingly soaked by the minute. Tongue caressing the small bundle of nerves, lathing the flower in slick saliva. Unintelligible noises fell from your mouth as the man persisted with his sexual torment. Your willing body prepared to take whatever he planned to give you. The sensation of his solid tongue on your sensitive slit left you practically weakened. It made you thankful that you didn't use the dishwasher this time around.

Your arms began to grow weak from holding yourself up, mind trapped in a blissful fog. You were sure that you were close to collapsing from his erotic ministrations though any attempts at pushing him away would be met with blanant disregard. There had already been plenty of instances were the man merely held you down in response after you attempted to squirm away from his carnal desires remaining wholly indifferent to your helpless moans.

Shifting your mind back to the present, you felt him maneuver his wiggling muscle deeper in your tight opening, drinking in the sweet nectar that gushed into his waiting mouth. Up and down. Round and round in quick circles. The stimulation was so sinful that you couldn't resist squirming as a spur of elation uncoiled in you stomach. The alluring call of orgasm loomed over you, threatening to engulf you whole. Your head lulled backwards, braids cascading down your back in an enticing fashion as he ate like a starving man who hadn't eaten for days.

You eyes shot open when he pulled away, a sudden unsatisfying emptiness filled your subconsciousness at his absence. With quick hands, he turned you around to face him. The expression he was regarding you with was full of unadulterated hunger. His eyes definitely conveyed his emotions better than unspoken words. His normally tamed hair was somewhat unrestrained in the wake of their salacious activities, eyes burning darkly. When you glanced down, you noticed the tent in his slacks revealed just how well-endowed he was. And you found it hard to believe that you'd been taking it inside your body for the past few weeks.

His dexterous palms were pleasant as they gently kneaded over your supple curves, outwardly enthralled by the feeling of your silky skin. Any other time you might've been ticklish at the feeling but now you could only manage unbridled desire. The way in which he slowly moved his fingers were entirely soothing and you wanted to melt. Leaning down he captured your lips passionately, melding his lips against yours, dipping his tongue in shortly thereafter.

Taking you into his strong arms, maneuvering you how he wanted you were delicately placed onto the open space of the counter, your left side laid against the hard surface. You found the position extremely perverse and revealing, as both your legs were positioned close together as if you were sitting in an invisible chair of sorts. With this position, he had a perfect view of everything including your small snug vulva tucked between puffy lips.

To tell the truth, you weren't sure if you could maintain this position for long and had a feeling that he knew that. That's why he was taking the initiative to support you like this. Gripping your hip, he pulled the curvature of your bottom towards the edge, keeping you there in that position.

He carefully lined his member to your body with deadly precision, leisurely guiding the hot pulsing shaft to your heated cavern, preparing to penetrate.

The tip of the hitman's pillar of flesh pressed against your canal, reaching every conceivable place of your insides. The moment the man's thick shaft began easing it's way into your taut soaking entrance, you convulsed, lost in the haze of pleasure and pain. Your eyes were clenched shut and your mouth fell open to expel a weak cry of pain. The stretching and discomfort was always the worst part for you and it didn't help that your muscles tensed up in a futile attempt to accommodate the welcome intrusion. Keep in mind that he was not easy to take whatsoever, you could hardly believe that you'd been taking him all this time.

A gasp sprang out from between your lips as the man established a rhythm of of digging deep into you, pulling out and then slamming back in. Your soft globes bouncing against his hips and groin, hitting the deepest spot with your sensitive pussy that make stars explode behind your eyes.

Your right hand tugged on his biceps, legs trembling as your heated womanhood struggled to accommodate his length. You groaned throatily as a wave of pleasure washing over your entire form, making your heart race. Moaning softly your gaze was mostly dazed and blurred, mind wandering through an ocean of rapture.

He knew your body better than you did. He was well-acquainted with the tautness of your body. Already familiar with your erogenous zones. It's what practically made you obsessed with him in a short amount of time. That and the way he whispered foreign words to you whilst continuously joining your bodies together passionately.

Tears seeped from your eyes in perpetual flows as you sucked in a breath, the sensory overload almost too much to handle. Thighs starting to lock. The loud slap of moist flesh canvassed the vast majority of the kitchen area, your shakily cries almost just as deafening. The slow, yet forceful pace of his strokes made it felt like your soul was ascending to heaven. You eyes could barely stay open. You writhed under his intense pounding and thrusting, inner walls quivering delectably.

He seemed to push his weight harder into your squeezing body, fingers grasping your waist even tighter than before. Your warm core was gushing around his hard, piercing manhood and you almost couldn't stand it.

Brown hues drunk in the breathtaking image of your twisted, pleasure induced features. Your delirious state probably looked inherently unsexy through his half-lidded eyes. You tried not to focus on the thought and more on the fact that his dick was hilt-deep inside you, stroking back and forth. The tight knot in your stomach was gradually building.

The orgasm was overly intense and had you screaming at the top of your lungs. The aftershocks made your body even weaker, practically reverberating through your dripping and now filled cum sex. Thank God for birth control. It was the first time you could recall where he'd cum during the first round of sex. Maybe he was feening for you just as much as you were for him. For long moments, you two didn't move from your now awkward positions on the counter, seemingly content to stay completely still for a while longer.

You stared into his eyes, undeterred when he simply stared back. There was a question plaguing your mind and you planned to get an answer. "Can you tell me your name?"

He blinked, seeming regarding your question carefully and you truly thought he'd decline to answer. Instead, he proved you wrong by responding with, "It's John. John Wick."


	2. Vanishing Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey, I'm back! Y'all have no idea how eager I've been to get back to this story. I don't know why, but the concept is just so interesting to work with and not just because Keanu is so dreamy. Most of the story is going to mainly be from the female OC's perspective since I believe that reading from John's perspective takes away from the mystery of his character. However, there will be certain points in the story where I'll have to expand on John's actions and feelings. I'm sorry if this chapter seems rushed or sudden. I have a million things to do in the next coming weeks and I wanted to get this out beforehand. I promise I'll make it up to you guys next chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Vanishing Point

“John Wick.” You repeated, letting the name resonate on your tongue as to accumulate familiarity. 

So his name’s John? That’s pretty anticlimactic and common though the last name Wick made it significantly more fascinating. 

You didn’t know what name you were expecting to hear but it certainly wasn’t that. In reality, you weren’t really sure if he looked like a ‘John’ but what was a John supposed to look like? A middle aged divorced man with two rebellious teenage children that came to visit him every other month or a seventy year old supreme court judge with no family who’s extremely dedicated his work. Those were oddly specific but they sure got the point across. Regardless, you were absolutely confident that the man intimately positioned over you was neither. 

With this realization, your raddled subconscious allowed you the luxury of regaining your full awareness back in seconds. You found that were still lewdly situated and openly exposed on your side across the kitchen counter, still essentially joined together by genitals. Embarrassment came flooding in and you started to chaotically rack your brain with ways to convey just how uncomfortable you were at the moment. It was not an easy feat to tell a man that your were self-conscious about him still being inside of you and wanting him to pull out. Given that, the man above you was still staring resolutely at your now mortified face made it even more difficult not to mention awkward. 

As luck would have it, John was able to correctly discern the emotion on your face and carefully withdraw from your body. You both loved and hated the feeling, going from full to empty within a matter of seconds. There was just something about he left your body filled with his essence and slowly withdrew as if he detested to do so. You were quick to clench your legs tightly together in response, knowing that if you did not the combined juices would start to leak out. You were able to lift yourself into seated position on the counter, limbs feeling incredibly too weak to offer full support. John wasted no time helping you off the surface and onto your feet. 

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Without his help, you probably wouldn't have been able to get down own your own due to shaky, unstable legs. Now you stood in the welcome cage of his strong arms, inhaling the distinct aroma of masculine cologne and gunpowder, and gazing up into his deep brown eyes. It was something you found yourself doing quite a lot when given the opportunity, it was hard to resist. The feeling it gave you was indescribable, heat would bloom inside your chest, your chest would start on an erratic pace, everything troubling your mind would dissipate at once. This man had the ability to entrance you just by being present - and you willingly accepted it everytime. 

Before you could stop yourself, a hand came up to lightly brush over a bruised cheek. Expecting him to pull away from the contact, you were surprised when he responded in turn by leaning more into the hand. You realized in that instant that it was moments like this that you truly craved above all else. Just to be able to establish such a warm connection with someone like him, was all you needed. 

Though you were reluctant to ruin the moment, there was something you needed to ask. “Are you going to leave now?”

There was no question that the highly perceive man could ascertain the clear emotion in your voice as you posed the question, especially since you’d deliberately asked in a tone that made it sound like you would break down in tears if he so much as affirmed your suspicions. You were more than prepared to use your puppy eyes to your full advantage.

The room was silent for a few moments before John put your worries at ease by stating, “I’ll stay.” 

You nodded and hoped that your smiling expression didn’t closely resemble a spoiled child getting their way because it was certainly how you felt at the moment. Seeing as you were an only child you kind of were used to getting your way. 

While still in the man’s embrace you chose this moment to run your eyes over the length of his clothing. There were tiny specks of red stains embedded in some of the black and white fabric. Knowing what he did for a living, there was no need to wonder if it was blood or not when you knew it was. A clear estimate of how long the stains had present couldn’t be determined, all you knew was that once the stains start to set in, they were nearly impossible to get out. It appeared as though John and his clothing were in need of washing. 

“You’re dirty. Come on, I can run you a bath.” You said. 

You lead him by hand to the modest bathroom only accessible through your bedroom. Your whole apartment was nice, although it was the bathroom that you were most pleased about. The bathroom always smelled of freshly washed linen. There was no granite countertops, or extravagant walk-in-shower with multiple showerheads. You weren’t ashamed to admit just how simple your bathroom was; just how you were fine with it. Fine with simplicity. Most people would say that having a small bathroom was a problem but you actually found it quite satisfying. 

The taps were turned on and the sound of water filling the tub soon became the dominant sound. Reaching into a nearby lower cabinet, you retrieved a jasmine scented bath oil that you were quite fond of using and applied a generous amount into the water. After being told about the oil from your mother, you soon became addicted to buying them. This particular bath oil contained relaxing and supposed healing properties for the body and mind. Sitting on the edge of the tub you decided that the aromatherapy would be good for the slightly injured man standing calmly behind you. 

There it was again - that lingering interest that begged for you to question any and everything surrounding him. Where had he been all this time? Where had those injures come from? It was a pain to constantly have to push those thoughts away and let your curiosity go unanswered. Too much curiosity would ruin the vibe. If John wanted you to know more about him then he would tell you of his own volition with absolutely no coxing on your part. Not that you didn’t already have an idea of what he was; it was ‘who’ he was that you desperately wanted to know more about. 

You didn’t notice how deep in thought you were until you the rustle of clothing caught your attention. Seeing as how you did offer to run the man a bath, the sight of him undressing shouldn’t have shocked you as much as it did in that moment - your eyes becoming glued to the exposed skin. Practically salivating as he started stripping down in strategic fashion, you had to maintain your composure by taking in a few calming breaths. Frankly speaking, it should be a crime the way you were ogling the tall, well-built man. The thoughts running your mind were beyond inappropriate. Even now, you were thoroughly convinced that the man was aware of your improper perusal. 

Watching silently as he nonchalantly removed a gun holster with a gun from around his hip, then carefully removed a switchblade hidden against his calf, the man placed the deadly items onto the bathroom cabinet. A phone was also placed on the counter as well. There was little to no emotion as he did this. 

John kept an aura of stoicism around him at all times, or at least when you were around. You just loved when a man had a controlled level of arrogance - a man who need he was the shit without being overbearing. He was also very quiet but you could tell that he was never a man of many words anyway. With him sometimes no response was a response in itself. You knew that some men’s empathy only went as far as their attraction to you. As a matter of fact, one would argue that no man that was interested in you was going to disappear for days at a time without at least informing you first. But you know full well that this was a special case. John Wick was not a normal man. He’d only been gone for a little over a week but you missed him all the same. 

Mentally shaking off the feelings, you did your best to ignore his unclothed form and started gathering the clothing within your arms. “I’m going to wash these before the stains set in.” You explained, thoroughly convinced that the stains had already made their home in the fabric. 

Showing emotion was something the man was not quite fond of in the first place yet he seemed surprised by the fact that you’d offered and even more surprised that you had no questions about where the blood came from. After receiving a simple nod from him, you were out of the bathroom and down the hall with a quickness that startled you. Opening the door to the small washroom near the kitchen, you started a fresh load with only his clothes and a sizable amount of washing detergent. There wasn’t any way the stains would come out if you didn’t use an excessive amount. 

Once that was done, you tried to buy time by lingering near the operating washer and counting the time in your head. Essentially ensuring that by the time you went back to the bathroom to check on him, he’d already be in the water. Hopefully, your timing was on point. 

By the time you ventured back to the bathroom, from the doorway you caught a glimpse of him stepping into the water and you quietly admired the never before seen tattoos on the man’s muscled back. There were scars there too. The tattoos and scars only added to the mystique of his person as a whole and the danger he poised was beyond alluring and immeasurably sexy.

Something occurred to you at that moment, in your flustered haste you’d forgotten to moderate the tap so the water could be lukewarm and tolerable. Not everyone liked to bathe in scalding hot water. Yet he seemed perfectly fine with it, not showing any indication that the temperature bothered him. Instead, the man was resting his tired body in the scented water, inaudibly sighting in pleasure. 

“Aren’t you getting in?”

At that very moment, your chest tightened and your eyebrows shot up. “Huh?” 

“You’re dirty...you need to bathe.” John softly warranted, the glint in his eyes letting you know what he took your earlier words to heart about implying that he was ‘dirty’. By saying this, he letting you know that you don’t get away, you just get by for the moment.

By this point you were sure that your face had morphed into an expression of horror, eyes blinking owlishly at him. Realizing the gravity of the situation had words were stuck in your throat. How could you have forgotten the issue of still being filled to the brim by him only a short while ago? You were still walking around in a big t-shirt with his essence coating the inside of your thighs. Truthfully, it was not something one should be able to forget so easily. 

This man had seen you in various states of disarray and yet you found yourself terribly self-conscious about your naked form being on display. In your intimate moments, you both had never stripped completely, some semblance of clothing always remained. The thought of objecting briefly crossed your mind a few times before notion of accepting ever emerged. And you weren’t naturally shy by a long-shot but you couldn’t hardly manage the thought of being exclusively naked in front of him. Undressing in front of him suddenly took the number one spot for scariest thing in the world. Despite being totally comfortable allowing the man to plunder the most intimate place on your body, conserving your modesty became the highest priority in an instant. 

John’s teasing gaze was beckoning you from your place at the door, silently urging you to move from the place and heed his request. It wasn’t like he was forcing you to do this, you had a choice. Worst case scenario, he saw you fully naked.

The effort it took to push down the wave of anxiety was remarkable. With any more further incitement, you moved shaky palms to assist in easing off your clothes, the garments falling to the tiled floor softly. You were doing your absolute worst trying to pretend that your heart wasn’t going wild inside of your chest and intense heat wasn’t pooling between your thighs once more. 

He was watching you with intent, eyes illuminated by the many lights within the bathroom. There was a hint of amusement dancing in them. Now that’s what shocked you...that look. He’d never given you such a look before. John stretched his arms along the rim of the tub and leaned back in a reclining fashion. It was one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen. 

It was at this point that you became aware and that there was no point in lying to yourself - you loved his attention. Practically craved it. There was nothing like being desired by a man, having his full attention, and having him release all his built up passion unto you ever chance he got. 

The oval bathtub was surprisingly large enough to accommodate the both of you. You literally wasted no time sinking down gracefully into the water, the heat emanating from it was oddly satisfying. You were were sitting opposite from John between his parted thighs. The reality of being in the bathtub with a man for the first time was almost too much to process.

Reaching over to the adjoining nook, you easily retrieved body wash and a small towel. After applying a substantial amount of body wash to the towel, you lathered it up. Began scrubbing his body free of any evidence of his interesting day. 

The purpose of bathing is for personal hygiene and you were determined not to let your unpredictable libido get in the way of that. Diligently washing every inch of him both above and below the water - skillfully transversing the slopes and contours of his skin. You didn’t intend for the touches to be sexual in any capacity, only wanting him to get clean though you were sure that the sensations evoked some burning reactions within him. In fact, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t feel the same way. The nature of your sexual relationship was a clear testament to this. 

You held the cloth under water for a few moments, letting it absorb as much as it could, bringing the engorged towel above his head, you squeezed water on the brown silken tresses. He closed his eyes as you do so without any prompting. The water stuck to the strands thus enabling the hair to flatten on and around his face. After giving him a small smirk of satisfaction basically confirmed to him that your intentions behind doing so were done for the sole purpose of taunting; drenching him in water just because you felt like it. Because it pleased you. 

With a growing sense of confidence, you languidly trailed the soapy cloth across his abdomen, gently dragging your nails across the skin there. You couldn’t help the way you paid close attention to the way the steaming water rushing down and over his porcelain skin. The soapy cloth 

His eyes opened once again to reveal piercing brown orbs. You face felt flush when you realized that he was staring at your uncovered nipples. John’s calloused palms felt good on your skin, fingertips dancing on skin much like you were doing. When his hands started a path up and down your sides you were quickly pulled away with a giggle. Of course it would surprise him that you were extremely ticklish.   
There was only one part of him to clean now. With no pretense for being coy, you directed your wandering hand to close the soft, wet fabric around his length beneath the water. Making the effort to lightly stroke him as a means to pretend as though you were simply cleaning him. 

The physical contact told you everything you needed to know, that you two were getting to know each other on a deeper level. And him staying overnight obviously wasn't planned. Nevertheless, you felt like him agreeing to stay over did strengthen their bond somewhat. It wasn’t like one or the other was making things more complicated; you both were imposing into the other’s life indiscriminately. 

After a while longer, exchanging affectionate touches and taking turns cleaning one another, you made the decision to leave the bath before your skin started to shrivel up like a prune. Instead of drying off in front of the man, you ventured into the bedroom to dry off and redress in an oversized t-shirt and panties. You faintly heard him getting out of the water before he followed you into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Presumably, he brought no extra clothes with him and his only clothing was being washed at the moment. 

“Um..I’m going to check on your clothes. I’ll be right back.” You left the room to place his clothes in the dryer. After having done so, you returned to the room to find him already in bed under the covers. Your weren’t even gone longer than five minutes. 

In defiance of the aura of detachment, he did look exhausted. Instead of falling asleep it was highly likely that he’d passed out. 

Walking closer to the bed, you observed him fast asleep on the left side of your bed, an arm lying over his stomach. Despite everything, you were more than happy that he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep beside you. Without much prompting, you slid in the bed, maintaining a reasonable distance between you two. There were a range of emotions that you dared not put a name too as you stared at his sleeping visage. His usual hardened face was relaxed in the midst of sleep. You watched his chest rise and fall with every breath until you felt sleep creeping up on you. Turning over, you sighed and buried your face in the soft sheets. 

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Presumably it's the middle of the night when awaken whilst rolling unto your left side for comfortability. The soft sonance pulled you out of sleep. Moonlight from the window on the opposite side of the room allowed the barest of light into the room. John is still on his back in a deep slumber and you were loathe to disturb him when he looked so peaceful. He was ruggedly handsome. 

An idea crossed you mind at that time, whether it was good or bad you couldn't really ascertain. Reaching over to your nightstand, you picked up your phone carefully not to let too much light into the room in order to avoid waking him. You went to the camera app and turning on the flash. One quick picture was all it took - it was all you needed. 

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The blinds were closed but that didn’t stop light from peaking in through tiny crevices. It’s now nine o’clock on a Friday morning and find yourself briefly entertain the thought of emailing your professors and telling them that you were coming to class with no explanation whatsoever. Forgetting to set your alarm was a pain in the ass and luckily you hadn't woken up late but now you planned to sit on the edge of the bed until you were late anyway. This was the life of an undergrad apparently. 

The other side of the bed was cold and empty. The body once lying there having been gone for some time now. The least he could do was tell you that he was leaving, not that he really owed you an explanation. The truth of the matter was that it perplexed you about how he was able to leave the bed without alerting you with a single movement or sound. You were not a heavy sleeper in any sense of the expression. In the end, you guessed that it was a crucial requirement as a killer to go undetected when doing most tasks. Even something so simple as not waking another person up as you left the bed. 

This didn’t disappoint you however, it wasn’t like you’d wake him up with kisses then prepare breakfast for him. That was way too personal and domestic. There was no way you’d be willing to bare your soul to him and truthfully you knew better than to expect the same from him. 

The sight of the wad of cash on your nightstand near your phone almost sent into cardiac arrest. 

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The morning air was a little chilly but as you wrapped your jacket more tightly around your form, you summarized that it would hopefully let up by noon. Today was one of those crisp bustling days in the New York streets where thousands of pedestrians were constantly on the move and minutes quickly turned into hours if one had pleatha of tasks that needed to be completed by the days end. Multiple signs flickered and buzzed and cars whizzed by unapologetically. Reaching the campus could never be an easy feat when there were there were busy masses of people scurrying to their destination in every which direction but that didn’t stop you from continuing on with a hurried stride. 

There were about twelve buildings on the campus that made of the campus; each building was a different department for students based on their program. Instead of heading straight to the journalism department, you went right into the student center where on-campus was located. 

You were currently six weeks into the fall semester. Your professors had only begun to put names to faces and single out their favorites in the class. Besides maintaining a neutral attitude towards college and you only attended because you knew it what most young people leaned towards. From your perspective, college was somewhat of a scam that heavily favored capitalism. 

The two classes dragged by so excruciatingly slow that you were inclined to believe that the universe had made the comestic decision to only fuck with you today. The professor droned on and on about the subject matter and for you it went in one ear and right out the other. When you got a text from the group chat about meeting at Alexis’ job you left the class twenty minutes early. 

Alexis worked in a really high-end clothing boutique in Midtown and had a boujee white man for a boss that really hated to see you and Jasmine come around. Honestly with the way he acted toward people of color, it actually puzzled you how Alexis even got hired. 

It was probably made worse by the three of you cackling loudly in the lobby area where Alexis was supposed to be helping customers. 

“Soooo I have news.” You started. 

Both of friends were at attention. 

Jasmine leaned on one of her hands as she got you a raised eyebrow look. “Okay spill.”

You shifted on your feet. “Okay so, right after y’all left...he came to the apartment.”

The gasps and looks you received were nothing short of humorous. “I know you fuckin lying.”

You had to shrug and turn your head away in order not to laugh in their faces. Their reactions were already anticipated and with no effort at all they could reduce you to the most intense laughing fit known to man. 

“Nope.” you said.

Alexis was beyond giddy to hear about the new development. “What happened?!”

You played the nonchalance up just to get a rise out of them. “He just dropped by the apartment and talked, that’s it.”

“I’m not accepting that, I need details.” Alexis asserted. 

And Jasmine was right behind her. “Yeah bitch cough it up.”

“First off what time did he come by and what did yall do?” Alexis questioned, ticking off fingers as she emphasized what she wanted to hear. 

You were preparing yourself to be judged by both his conduct and yours. 

“Do I really need to say what happened. Y'all already know what went down.”

The way they screeched after hearing this would have your eardrums ringing for hours afterwards. 

“Oh my god..you bitch! Really?” Alexis shrieked.  
“Yeah. I managed to snap a picture while he was sleeping, you know after we did the deed.” 

Alexis nearly jumped over the counter as you unlocked your phone and Jasmine nearly knocked you to the floor trying to peer over your shoulder. 

“You mean after he dicked you down?” She asked.

“But why are you taking sneaky pics now? All this time yall been fooling around, you’d think he’d be your man by now.” Alexis probed. 

You don’t know what possessed you to grab your phone to take a picture of him while he slept, only summing it up to be an impulsive action that you felt the need to perform. 

“He’s probably got dirt that he don’t want uncovered or misses at the house. Those are legitimate concerns for a man that you have to sneak pictures of.”

“Shut up.”

You didn’t believe that for a second. Sure he was secretive and guarded but who wouldn't be when they were in the profession that he was. The kind of profession where you offed people without a second thought and disappeared for days at a time with no contact. There would be a lot of speculation and mystery surrounding him and it wasn’t your place to question and demand that he telling you about it. What good would it do to construct and entertain a false narrative or assumption about him. One thing you would not do was go looking for any negative reasons or aspects about his character. At the end of the day, nothing or nobody could sway your opinion about the man.

In the back of your mind, you knew what was going on even if he omitted telling anyone who he truly was and what he did for a living. 

Not to mention that John had saved your life. Twice at that. Now he was sleeping with you and leaving you money. 

Ignoring your intuition came with its own set of heavy consequences. Were you ready to deal with the fact that you were sleeping with a man who was always required to be armed for his own safety. Did you really want to discuss the situation in full detail? The notion made you tense up involuntarily though there was an optimistic possibility. 

After all, you did in fact witness him shoot scores of people, perhaps it was his way of ensuring your silence. The idea made sense though it certainly was a weird way to go about it, not that you were complaining. 

You could decide to voice any concerns or true feelings about him with your friends but for now you choose to keep your inner thoughts close to your own chest. 

“All in favor of a girls night out in celebration of a friend receiving a healthy dose of penis...say I.” Alexis proposed.

“I.” You and Jasmine simultaneously respond.

“Motion carries. Let the record show that a girls night out will officially begin tonight after seven.”


	3. One of Those Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Listen, those translations were straight from Google Translate so don't judge me.

Chapter 3: One of Those Nights

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Alexis recommended the club through her long list of privileged friends that had connections. The plan was to meet up at your apartment and drive to the club in Jasmine's car. In all fairness, you had never even heard of The Red Circle before tonight and never been there. Apparently, the nightclub was one of those exclusive spots on the other side of town. Despite this, you conclude that you could really do for some fun and laughter as you riffle through your closet for a decent outfit. There were plenty of short skirts, graphic t-shirts, and jeans but essentially not that could be considered an adequate clubbing attire.

You wanted to look good tonight, like you're attending one of Beyonce's famously exclusive parties that you always dreamed about as a superfan. In all, you were able to settle on a off-white corset top with a short flared skirt, and a pair of lace-up heels. It wasn't often that you felt uncomfortable showing a lot of skin but tonight wasn't one of those nights. Arranging your braids into a high ponytail, you left a few braids left hanging in the front. You made sure to beat your face extra pretty tonight, adding lashes for that extra umph.

You were fully engaged in a group facetime with your Jasmine and Alexis while you got ready.

"Don't you wanna invite your boyfriend? We don't mind if you have a plus one."

"I'm not going to invite him to our girls night out regardless. Knowing him, he probably has other shit to do anyway."

"Like what?"

"Hell...I don't know. Whatever he does at this time of night."

"See you're not on your job. Since y'all fucked, you're supposed to be borderline stalking him now. He doesn't do anything you don't know about. That's the rules."

"Okay, crazy bitch." Jasmine laughed.

"Call it what you want."

"Nobody wants to be checking for someone like that. Especially a man."

"If you ask me, I think he has somebody else at home." Alexis confidently said.

The assumption struck a cord of anxiety in your gut. The idea could definitely be a possibility and you didn't put it past the secretive man. The two of you didn't know each other that long and you felt like the relationship was in its infancy stage. He didn't seem like that type to be unfaithful to his spouse if he did in fact have one. Regardless, you'd rather not be burdened by assumption.

Jasmine smacked her teeth. "Would you be a side piece for four thousand a week?"

"Four thousand a week? I don't mind being a little potato salad." Alexis noted, comically serious. Her light brown cat came into view of the camera, to which Alexis then proceeded to nuzzle close to her face. "Isn't that right kitty boo boo."

You had to shake your head at the display. "You and that cat..."

"Polly knows what's going on."

"What kind of person names their cat polly?"

"Umm, me. Duh."

"Whatever, the two of you need to get your asses over her asap. I wanna pregame first." You urged, you needed something to take your mind off of the topic at hand.

"Yes ma'am. We'll be right over. Just making sure my wig is secured."

You burst out laughing at that.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Pulling up to the nightclub with its grandiose entrance, a long queue waiting in line outside signaled the start of the night. The city really came alive at night, on every avenue, in bars, and in clubs. Instead of waiting in the long ass line, Alexis simply dapped up the bouncer. Allowing the three of you full clearance. Good thing you had a social butterfly for a friend, it really came in handy sometimes.

The first thing you noticed was LED and strobe lights and scantily dressed women dancing on raised platforms. Blasting electronic music that you were in no way fond of. Off the bat, you knew that the drinks would cost an arm and a leg. That had the potential to kill your mood along with the bodies touching and pushing against yours as you tried to make it to the bar. The dance floor was expansive and illuminating with colorful special effects. Honestly, you really didn't like the fact that the club had the tendency not to play urban or rap music because they thought of it as distasteful. Not only that but apparently, people were taking turns doing coke in the bathroom stalls. Learning that helped solidify that this spot just wasn't your cup of tea. This club was not it.

You summarized that there wasn't much to do besides stand around awkwardly and watch people.

You, Jasmine, and Alexis took up three seats at the bar. As usual, Alexis went straight to Snapchat while Jasmine fought to get in the camera. You didn't want to be a party pooper but this just wasn't doing it for you.

"Such a pretty woman. Me and you could have some fun." A voice from your right side laminated and you turned to see a man suited fellow smiling directly into your face. His voice was thick with a Russian accent and this automatically puts you on edge, his sleazy face twisted into a lecherous smirk. Not to be paranoid, but every single encounter you'd had with someone of a Russian decent ended in disaster.

"No, I'm okay." You answered, face portraying nothing short of disinterest.

Your patience was already wearing thin. The guy had no intention of respecting your boundaries and that in itself was a red flag.

"Awww don't be like that. You can come back to my place. We don't have to do anything."

Rolling your eyes, you thought he could come up with a better line than that. "I may have been born but I wasn't born yesterday."

"What? Are you too good for me?" He asked with his arms outstretched.

"I never said that. In my eyes, if you're a person of value, you have to carry yourself differently. I can't be any and everywhere and allow every single person that comes around to have access to me. It has nothing to do with arrogance, please understand that."

"I'll tell you what...you come to VIP with me and I'll show you a good time."

Your brows arched in clear displeasure. By this point, you were fighting with the urge to knock the annoying asshole into a coma. This guy was the biggest piece of shit you'd come across in a long time. His constant badgering after you'd already expressed disinterest was seriously getting under your skin in the worst way. He was like a little dog that wouldn't stop humping a stranger's leg no matter how many times they pushed it away. How many times did you have to rebuff him before he finally took his ass somewhere else? There was no way anyone was that dense - you refused to believe it.

You didn't want any dealings with his peanut head ass and you thought you were making that pretty clear.

After shifting the chair, you swiftly vacated your place at the bar without a word. What was the point in announcing your exit? The sleazeball didn't even deserve that from you.

Luckily, your friends weren't far away as you mumbled over the music, "Can we go somewhere else? I just can't with this music."

"Yeah, it's not cutting it with me either." Jasmine added.

"Well shit Lauren said it was a nice club."

"Girl, Lauren lied."

"Okay, let's go then. I wanted to go The Mirage anyway." Alexis said, as she linked arms with the two of you, moving to maneuver through the dancing crowd towards the illuminating exit sign.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The music blared loudly in your eardrums, encouraging an enthusiasm in your chest that wasn't present in the first club. The Mirage was much more 'urban' as the white locals liked to say. The place was usually the go to club for you and your crew anyway. Thankfully, every seat at the bar wasn't taken and it allowed you a chance to down a few drinks before you joined your friends, who immediately ran to the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. You didn't want to think about how much of a pain it was going to be to find them in the fray.

You'd become acquainted with a bottle of Hennessy and it had you feeling more loose than usual. Before you knew it, you engaged in an endless cycle of dancing on the floor then running back to the bar after every song. After a while, you were decently drunk though not sloppily drunk, as both of those were two different things. And you expressed pride at knowing your limit. Regrettably your serenity of your surroundings would be tainted just a moment later by the untimely arrival of an unwanted guest.

"You should really reconsider my offer."

Turning to the side, you noticed the mouthy stranger from the club. Your mood instantly tanked with this fact. You were too tipsy to be dealing with anything that didn't make sense to you.

"No. I'm here to have a good night out with my friends and you're getting in the way of that. Move around." Couldn't you indulge in cheap liquor in peace?

The fact that he'd followed you and your friends to another club wasn't all that surprising. Had the liquor not been clouding half of your senses, you might've felt a sliver of fear at the prospect.

Some men were so creepy and performative for pussy, there was virtually no difference between them and dogs rolling over for a treat.

The bartender with whom you were familiar was paying very close attention to the interaction. As a former bartender yourself, you'd seen just about every shady trick in the book and you were quite certain this man was trying to dupe you.

A wad of cash had been placed on the counter in front of you. "Here. I'm sure this is more than what you're used to. There's more at my apartment if you're interested."

Guys like him were the reason why it was very important for the three of you to arrive and leave every social function together and not leave anyone behind. No matter where women went, there was always the threat of rapey ass men skulking around after dark, preying on vulnerable women. This situation being a clear example of this.

In trying to outright ignore his presence, you feel bile rushing up into your not irritated throat. You staggered off the stool to the bathroom before the contents of your stomach ended up in the middle of the floor or worse, all over your person. There was nothing worse than a drunk person vomiting everywhere in the club. Plus you didn't want people to see you vomiting your guts out in full view.

In the bathroom you expected to be dirty and disgusting, the music continued thumping in the background. The bathroom was actually quite decent and you were grateful for that. The smell of piss flooding your nostrils would surely have you feeling even more ill. Heels clicking along the floor, you hurried into a stall and placed your head over a toilet, careful not to get too close or touch anything. No matter how much you gagged and dry heaved, nothing wanted to come up. Even with nausea clawing its way up your throat, your stomach wouldn't even contract. Taking a few moments to ground yourself, you took some breaths to regain your composure before shakily standing on your feet which were starting to hurt.

A wave of nausea from standing too quick and the beginning signs of a headache were starting to make themselves known as you left the stall. With unwanted symptoms like these, you expected to be home early tonight. The only thing you could do now was wash your hands and leave. What you didn't expect, however, was to see your harasser standing blocking your path. This predicament should've sobered you up quick given the danger involved.

"I really don't have time for this." You sighed in exasperation.

"Then save us some time by coming with me."

"No! I don't fucking know you. Leave me alone."

Your hackles rose when he started advancing towards you with his arms outstretched. "Come on now sweetheart-"

"Back up! Don't even come towards me! Move outta my way."

The man put his hand to his face in clear irritation, gritting his teeth in the process. *"Ugh, ya ne znayu, pochemu oni otpravili menya imet' delo takoy malen'koy sukoy, kak ty."*

"I don't know what the fuck that means!"

"It means I'm gonna cut your fucking face up if you say another word you mouthy slut." He growled angrily, eyes burning with clear cut vehemence. The look sent chills through you.

You knew it was only a matter of time before his true colors came out to play. Men like him only play nice until they're denied their wants.

With your phone in your left hand, you contemplated calling your friends but there wasn't a guarantee that the call would even make it through before he got to you. Regardless, you still had to try.

"I wouldn't if I were you." The guy advised, obviously knowing where your thoughts were going. But if he thought he would scare you out of calling for help he could think again.

Instead of going for your phone first, you took off towards a stall behind you, intending to lock him out then call for help. Sadly you couldn't move that fast in heels and he was much quicker than anticipated. A harsh grip on your braids was all you felt before you were being dragged away. Your phone fell from your hand, landing on the floor with a hard thud. Your scalp was stinging and tears began gathering in your eyes, with how he was pulling you might lose a few braids.

"What did I just tell you huh? *Tupaya shiyukha."*

Obviously, this guy meant to abduct you from the club for God knows what. You damn sure had no intention of letting him succeed in this plan. No woman wanted to be followed or murdered because they told a man no.

You'd his restricting hand in order to ease the pressure off your scalp. "What is this about? Are you mad at what I said or are you mad because it's true?"

"I said...shut the fuck up." He hissed. He produced a gun from the inside of his waistband, placing it on your chin. Suddenly, the oxygen got caught up in your lungs. The realization that the man now held a loaded gun to your face was starting to sink in. The fear was crushing. Did he mean to kill you?

Seriously, what was with men and their rejection issues?

The sound of the door opening could be faintly heard. Out of the blue, your captors eyes shifted to place behind you, the gun pressed into your face moving to take aim.

You were startled by a fist driving into the man's nose with a sickening crunch. You fell into the wall with a primarily hard impact, sinking to the floor as you turned to watch the scene with wide eyes.

There your savior stood in all his deadly grandeur. You were more disturbed by the fact that you never saw him coming. He moved like a shadow. He'd broken your attacker's nose with a single punch, blood was spewing all over his neck and chest in ropes. Now your attacker was cursing, no doubt seething that he'd been interrupted from committing a heinous deed. Every move was deftly coordinated. The way he punched and kicked with pristine efficiency. John was capable of a sophisticated type of combat and gun mastery - an assortment of skills unbeknownst to you.

In a matter of twenty seconds, he'd disarmed and beaten the man with a combination of hip throws, sensible strikes, and kicks. Easily overpowering your attacker until he was well-placed for a bullet to the head. The icy, piercing look he gave you as he calmly held the gun to the man's head. Briefly, you thought about pleading with John not to kill a man in a dirty club bathroom but the disgusting things he'd done and said to you couldn't be overlooked. Although, the last thing you wanted was for the sound of gunshots to rang out and send the whole club into a frenzy.

The man began what sounded like a pathetic plea for mercy but John would hear none of it.

"Everything has a price." He said.

A single bullet embedded itself into the man's head, blood spraying out from the back of his skull. The sight was a brutal one and you had to turn your head. The way John regarded him, it was like he already had unfinished business with the man. You wouldn't be surprised at that.

John Wick was effortless in every sense of the word, everything he did was effortless. The reality was that he was a hitman, a professional hitman at that. His expression was hard and serious as it landed on your person. He moved to hover above your slightly swaying form as you regained footing, bending to place a chaste kiss on your lips, likely as a confirmation that no actual harm had come to you. It was then that you realized, his actions were a claim of possession, not just duty.

"So you're following me now?"

"I was following him, following you."

It made sense now, your attacker had connections with Russians from the bar the night you and John met.

Maintaining some measure of trust between the two of you was essential and he made you feel protected. The main concern now was letting your friends know that you were leaving with someone you felt safe with. Without prompting, you let him lead you from the bathroom.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

"Nice car." You giggled as he led you to a black mustang. After carefully securing you into the passenger seat, John rounded the vehicle and slid in placing the key in the ignition. The rumble of the car somewhat made you jump as the purring vehicle sent vibrations throughout your entire body. The way he was tearing through the streets like a madman, tires squealing,suddenly made you wary about attracting attention from the police. But you couldn't help but admire how well he was maneuvering the beast with well-executed turns and gear changes.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed him sparing concerned glances at you seemingly to ensure that you were fine. You found this a little enduring if not sweet.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

This hotel was really high-end. As far as you could tell in your current state, the place was intricately designed with elegant furnishings and architecture. Beautiful artwork and paintings were placed delicately around the interior. Stepping into a place like this had you feeling like an important dignitary or royal. With a gentle hand at the small of your back, you were led past the reception area to a lift.

The suite itself held antique furniture, a spacious walk-in closet, and a large bathroom. The room was dressed in light, soft hues, providing a relaxed yet inviting atmosphere. The space smelled of fresh linens and the intoxicating aroma of jasmine. It was so easy to immerse oneself in the cozy ambiance and that wasn't with any help from the huge flat screen television. Moreover, the windows let in an abundance of moonlight while providing the best view of the city. For a split second, you thought about searching the suite for the complimentary chocolate the staff often left along with the over-priced bottles of water. The rich, sweetness would reawaken your dulled taste buds and you some solace after the night you'd had.

You walked barefoot across the carpeted floor, feet feeling relieved to finally be out of those heels. Throwing yourself on a nearby couch, a random bout of giggles started rising from your stomach and you had no control to curb them. John on the other hand, seemed slightly bewildered by your behavior as he moved to make himself comfortable. His suit jacket was removed and placed over a chair near the nice looking table set. His tie soon followed. This seemed to be his normal routine when coming back from a 'job' and it wouldn't surprise you that he was a night owl.

Glass from a metal bucket was dropped into a glass and a shot of bourbon was poured soon after. The amusement in his eyes let you know that he was not completely oblivious to how you were lounging on the couch ogling him with heated eyes. Undoubtedly, John's perceptive eyes surely noticed that your skirt had lifted a few inches, revealing a portion of your smooth blemish free upper thighs. Your skin felt flushed and hot from his innocent touch alone. This wasn't a surprise however as liquor always made your body run a few degrees higher, almost like you were running fever. Striding over, John then took a seat on the couch opposite of yours, regarding you with a sharp gaze. The nonchalance in which he did things always made you so hot.

"You've been drinking." John's deep voice was laced with concern, having sensed your unusual pattern of behavior for tonight.

"I mean I'm drunk but I'm not drunk drunk."

He offered no opinion of what he felt about your explanation merely continuing to impassively observe you in your current state. With no more conversation being brought forth, you decided to let your innermost thoughts be vocalized. For a moment, you wondered if he would mind you asking him personal questions about his secretive life. There were an infinite spectrum of possibilities that could take place if you poised the questions you wanted the answers to. Good thing you were drunk for this.

"Can you tell me what you are? I know you kill people...I've seen it on two separate occasions and I just wanna know." You hiccuped.

There were other questions brewing at the tip of your tongue just waiting for answers but this one held the most importance. There was constant inner turmoil when it came to him. Like the money situation. That needed to be elaborated on. He was not the typical hookup. You had no business getting involved with a dangerous man like him, but that was the way life worked sometimes. You felt like you knew him enough but at the same time, you knew next to nothing and there was almost a sea of uncertainty in the back of your mind. Tonight, he murked a man in a dirty club bathroom for you; that alone warranted some description of feelings for him. Not only that but there were multiple occasions where John showed you affection, even while under his blanket of indifference.

In a casual hookup, feelings weren't supposed to be remotely involved so soon if not ever. In fact, nearly all your interactions had been familiar, not at all reminiscent of two strangers hooking up every now and then. But when dealing with someone like John Wick, it was damn near impossible. He excluded that intoxicating, bad boy persona that easily ensnared many women without much effort. There was the general feeling that he knew a great deal about you and had seen you at your most exposed and yet, you admittedly didn't know a thing about him beyond surface level. Whether you liked it or not - you both were helplessly bound to the other.

A few seconds passed before he even offered an answer. The ruggedly handsome piece of man liked to take his time even when answering a question. The glass of dark bourbon didn't pause in its pursuit towards his mouth as he took a generous sip of the liquid before he smoothly murmured, "I'm a hitman."

Finally, the truth rears its invasive head.

In all fairness, you already had a gut feeling you just wanted it to be confirmed by him. "I thought so. This is something I thought I would process when I was completely sober but I'm processing right now. I don't know how though."

He offered a small barely there smirk at your uncharacteristic behavior and word vomit.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah...why did you leave that money on my nightstand? Is it like hush money or you wanna be my sugar daddy or something? I never thought I'd be into older guys but I can make this exception."

A brow lifted at that. "How old do you think I am?"

Shifting into a sitting position on the sofa, you pushed your braids from your face. "I don't know it's hard to tell. Are you at the halfway mark or just starting dialysis?"

"Dialysis." John said this with a straight face, though his tone carried traces of amusement. The dry sense of humor really worked for him seeing as his deep monotone voice never held any emotion.

Unable to stop yourself, you burst into another fit of giggles. Although the thought was funny, there was no way this polite, suit wearing, gun toting man was on any sort of kidney treatment; nor was he older than fifty.

"One last thing...are you going to pop up and save me every time I'm in distress?"

"Perhaps."

The tension in the room skyrocketed to the point where it was palpable and steadily rising with each second. The naked hunger in your eyes was so open, you were sure that John himself was hesitant. There was an internal ache that you needed him to soothe.

The horniness had you too preoccupied to pay any attention to your more rational thoughts. You wanted to listen but your eyes kept drifting down to stare longingly at his crotch. Openly admiring him brought on many lustful thoughts, namely the thick facial hair around his strong jawline and how pleasurable that would feel grazing the inside of your thighs. Apart from that, you were trying to come up with a polite way of insinuating, "I don't mean to be rude but can you fuck me?"

Though you were confident that his trained ears would pick up on the implication.

"Language." He admonished you like a strict father, eyes snapping to yours in a heartbeat.

"Do you want me to ask nicely?"

"That would be preferable."

"Please fuck me."

Brown eyes narrowed at your cheekiness. You knew that he didn't like you cursing or using any foul language but you couldn't help but be saucy at a time like this. It was the perfect opportunity to tease the normally stoic man.

There was a huge energy shift in the room and there was no way of telling where this would lead. His body language suggested that he possibly knew of the nasty images flooding your mind at the moment. Right now, you had no shame about blatantly fantasizing about him while being in his presence. That's probably why he was careful to maintain his distance from you.

This of course, wouldn't do. The familiar weight of his muscled body on yours sounded more appealing at the moment. As a matter of a fact, your walls were quaking at the thought of having the man inside you so soon. You found that your resolve was steadily slipping and the alcohol had already taken over. You desperately needed him in your guts tonight, preferably now.

Sliding away from mischievously, you slowly crawled on all fours until you were between his slightly open legs. The man made no comment, merely regarding you with a inquisitive gaze. Running your hands over his thighs, you began nuzzling your face against his thighs and crotch in a loving manner. Before long, your hands slid down his pressed slacks towards his confined dick, massaging the imprisoned organ. Hands made their way to the zipper of his dark pants, slipping inside to caress the thick organ. Looks like tonight's agenda would consist of catering to the man's shaft.

The flesh was already stiff and hot in your grip. Pulling away, you brought a hand to your mouth to add saliva before you start making up and down motions on the muscle. Soon the slit became wet with an abundance of moisture around the head. Unable and willing to ignore your wants, you placed soft open mouth kisses on the member. Your tongue traced over every ridge and vein.

His jaw clenched as he felt your mouth envelope the sensitive head of his member, dipping your tongue into the slit. Sweeping up the pearls, while smearing the wet tip across your pouty lips, slathering the pre-cum and leaving a glossy residue. Without much warning, you swallowed as much of it down as you could, cheeks hollowing as your throat contracted around him. How all of this was going over well with your sensitive gag reflex, you had no clue. The length was pulsating in your mouth all while you were slurping up pre-cum like it was a delicacy in the midst of staring up at him through long lashes. Maintaining eye contact with his darkened eyes with a mouthful of his dick as he watched with veiled arousal. All of this was done shamelessly.

John merely sat back against the couch with his arms outstretched, eyes heavily lidded as you made out with his member. It had to be a scandalous sight. Though he seem a little shocked by the boldness, or more accurately, erotic impulse. You could feel his firm shoulders tensing and his chest rising and falling with an increased intensity, as you continued sucking eagerly. You had to be doing something right. By no means were you a pro at giving head, in fact this probably wasn't that far off from your first introduction. There was a lot of sloppy, uncoordinated motions being done, quite possibly spurred on by the alcohol in your system. By now, your shy nature had been pushed back on behalf of your nasty, aroused side.

Having his dick in your mouth didn't much bother you at all, given you'd never done this to him before. The sense of pride, simply not there anymore. Besides, doing this made you more wetter than you could ever remember being.

His eyes closed for a moment when you started forcing your head even further. What surprised you was that he didn't grip your hair or force you to move at a certain pace - he simply allowed you to do what you wanted. The feeling of a hair at the back of your head drew your attention and you pulled away from his pulsing, hot flesh, a string of saliva still connecting.

You didn't want to put any thought into your appearance. Flushed cheeks, tear stained eyes, saliva running down both corners of your mouth. John sure didn't seem to mind it.

His strong hands moved you into his lap, thighs spreading across his own. Pushing his body flush against yours, John embraces you tightly. He always felt so firm and strong and it felt good to be in his capable hands. And you wasted no time dipping to kiss and lick the juncture of his neck in earnest. You could feel the muscle in his jaw tensing and summarized that he must be particularly sensitive there. Guiding you around from his neck, he leaned forward so that his forehead was nearly touching yours. A hand reached between the two of you, quickly finding and rubbing your heated core. Slightly calloused hands slid up your thighs beneath the skirt, coasting up to your panties. John then pulled the damp fabric down until it was free from your body. Let his fingers slip past the folds that covered your entrance, John sought out the most sacred place on your body.

All of his movements were graceful and thorough, all the while radiating powerful masculinity simultaneously. The two of you stared into each other's eyes for a long while, nothing but the sound of breathing breaching the silence. John's searching hands ran over the silk fabric of your top, pulling until the top was bunched below two perky breasts. Giving the breasts a tentative squeeze, earning a shriek of delight that escaped your lungs. Your nipples were already hardened by the time he got his hands on you. He nipped the swell of one globe before sucking it into his mouth. Knowing that you were overly receptive to his adept touches.

Dizzy with wanting, grasped a hold on his silky black hair. You knew what came next after this and you didn't want a slow and tender reacquaintance tonight, you preferred him to skewer you over and over again. Honestly, you wouldn't mind him being rough with you. Sometimes you found yourself craving it above all else.

Easily hoisting you up from the couch, John carried you to the bed, gently depositing you on the comfy surface. Immediately, you sat upright, staring up at him under thick eyelashes.

He folded his arms coolly across his broad chest, watching you laid out on the bed, eyes glittering with masculine satisfaction. The way in which he did this was admittedly very sexy, perfectly mindful that he was turning you into a puddle of hormones. His length strained up, pressing up against his stomach on account of the tantalizing suction it'd just received.

As he towered over you his prying digits found your clit, lightly brushing over in the process. Making you arch towards the fingers with a soft moan passing through your lips. A long finger tilted up your chin, leaning down to capture trembling, swollen lips.

His entire weight was soon covering you, lips eagerly devouring yours with a vigour seen many times before. Pressing his throbbing manhood against your naked mound, he commenced to gently rotating his hips, the wet friction was almost too much. You released lusty mewls in response to his actions. Desire had flushed over your skin. The heat from his body left and you watched as he towered over you while he nonchalantly undressed. Removing a gun holster and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing smooth skin on inch at a time before moving to his slacks.

Aside from the fact that he'd been rawing you from the beginning, the man's dick was anything but easy to take. Your legs were soon splayed open wide and hooked in the crook of John's arms. This position was like a quiet assertion of dominance for him.

He sank to the hit, pushing past clenching muscles as they attempted to lock down on him. Fully stuffing you full of long, girthy dick, whilst exhaling quietly. The onslaught of sensations had the ability to take your voice away and leave you breathless - and it did. It wasn't hard to fall into a stupor.

You would come to learn that John's style of fucking was highly potent, every movement graceful, measured, and with purpose. The act itself was breathtaking to watch and experience. Being jabbed, pushed, and stretched by his shaft was everything. The pleasure was dizzying. Shallow thrusts gradually deepening, your muscles locked, breathing turned shallow, and the thinking process fell below control of your five senses. Lungs heaving, the feeling of heat spreading across your abdomen.

You whimpered loudly under his degree of control and deliciously punishing grip. A brisk toe-curling pace was established. You moaned and panted, head twisting in the sheets as the hitman continuously dove into that sensitive bundle of nerves tucked inside your walls. Not breaking his stride, he leaned down to capture and swallow a sultry cry while bearing his weight down into the stubborn tightness.

"Ahh..it feels…"

"Feels what?"

"Feels go good."

Unintentionally digging your nails into his flesh as he swiveling his hips just right into your sweet spot with calculated precision. You were so out of it that you didn't realize that you were screaming. To make matters worse, his right hand was gripping into your braids, holding your head at an angle he preferred.

The phone on the bedside table began to chime loudly, pulling you from the grip of bliss that ensnared your train of thought. The hand in your hair slipped away to take the piece off the hook.

"Yes?"

Never in a million years would you have thought he would answer the phone while he was still deep inside of you.

The faint outline of a cultured voice could be heard on the other end. "I apologize for calling at this hour but we have received a number of grievances from your floor concerning the noise."

"My apologies, my guest and I were engaged in a...very intriguing game." His statement started with the reinsertion of his member and its withdrawal. Ultimately, leading to the continuation of the impassioned action.

"Oh, have you the need for a restraint or silencer?"

His low voice rumbling your shaking frame as he held a normal conversation on the phone. "Perhaps, I'll have to get back with you." The phone was placed back a second later.

"No more loud noises." He encouraged huskily.

He was informing you that you had to be quiet from now on because of noise complaints.

"I'm sorry...I don't think I can hold it in."

Wordlessly, John's hand slid up to cup the area between your jaw and neck, securing a firm grip. This somewhat startled you, you'd never been choked during sex before and he didn't strike you as the type. John now had a hand wrapped around your delicate throat, effectively trapping any noise that tried to slip out.

"Vy dolzhny nauchit'sya sledit' za svoim rtom." The hitman whispered into your ear, hot breath making you shudder.

Him speaking to you in that low authoritative voice was like kryptonite. In your mind, a myriad of emotions burst through, merging with fervent desires that raged in your system. Just to know it was near had your gut tightening. Gripping your curves to keep you in place. Gripping the sheets. John then increased the pace in which he used to stroke causing unbearable heat to burst through your lower half.

"I ne prosi o veshchakh, s kotorymi ty ne spravish'sya."

Dipping to your ear, your lover started speaking to you again in that deep baritone, punctuating his words with deep thrusts into your tight orifice. "Ty moy. Ty prinadlezhish' mine."

Warm wet walls constricted around him. With how wet you were, you could barely feel his length anymore. The way his dick moved inside, it was like a riveting game of slip and slide. The sound of wet flesh smacking together filled the room.

"Eto zatavlyatet vas chuvstvovat' sebya khorosho?"

You nodded a response as best you could, not really understanding but unable to get any words out to convey that. He rewarded you another demanding thrust into your womanhood, pounding intently until you could hardly withstand the delicious ecstasy any longer.

He was practically swimming inside you with merciless strokes, silently watching as your abdomen convulsed and molded with the outline of his dick, squirting juices along him and the sheets. You were barely conscious of your surroundings anymore. The only thing you could register was the assassin's shaft sliding in and out of your sopping wet core. With devastating effects on your insides. A spasm of pleasure swept throughout your form, pussy weeping in relief. Riding the wave of ecstasy.

Before long, your trembling body was contorting against the sheets. Mouth falling open with a small cry of rapture, teetering orgasm just on the precipice. The feeling an earth shattering sensation. An inaudible groan could be heard before the feeling of cum shooting deep inside you was discernible. John lips found yours once more as the cum continued spilling, the pulsating organ sending small jolts into your frame. Everything was beyond erotic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here's the all the translations for those of you like myself who don't understand Russian.
> 
> *"Ugh, ya ne znayu, pochemu oni otpravili menya imet' delo takoy malen'koy sukoy, kak ty."* - "I don't know why they sent me to deal with a little bitch like you."
> 
> *Tupaya shiyukha."* - *"Dumb whore."*
> 
> *"I ne prosi o veshchakh, s kotorymi ty ne spravish'sya."* - *"And don't ask for things you can't handle."*
> 
> *"Eto zatavlyatet vas chuvstvovat' sebya khorosho?"* - *'Does that make you feel good?"*
> 
> *"Vy dolzhny nauchit'sya sledit' za svoim rtom."* - *"You should learn to watch your mouth."*
> 
> *"Ty moy. Ty prinadlezhish' mine."* - *"You're mine. You belong to me."*


	4. Gut Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Another chapter in less than a month, I'm on a roll. Plus I wrote this chapter while dealing with a severe case of stomach virus. I'm so surprised by and grateful for all the love and support for this fic. Make sure y'all are washing your hands and staying safe!
> 
> P.S: In light of recent depressing events in the U.S, I thought it was important to remind everyone that I'm pro-black asf and I don't care who doesn't like it. I'm riding for my people always.

Chapter 4: Gut Feeling

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The veil of darkness began to lift as your eyes fluttered open, slowly bringing you into awareness. Pieces of consciousness began to break through your mind, sifting through the murky confusion. One by one your senses started to resurface, the drowsiness sweeping over you was causing mild discomfort. The coolness in the room was greatly welcomed. You couldn't stand a humid room. It bothered your soul. You were practically buried in the cool sheets of the bed and the opposite side of the bed was empty. A dry mouth revealed that you were beyond dehydrated.

A soft noise drew your attention towards somewhere else in the room. John came into your line of vision, fully dressed and unruffled, nary a hair out of place. The man's hair was slicked back, and a custom fitting charcoal suit hugged his body. You paid extra attention to the details, like the notch lapels, two buttons, and the monochromatic clothing underneath. It had to be one of your favorites so far. You observed how he moved around the room and outfitted various items back unto his body. After a moment, the man noticed that he was being watched as your eyes locked onto each other.

You tried to lean up but a wave of dizziness and an irritated throat prevented that. "Water." You requested, throat sounding more scratchy than it should.

John with his usual attentive self, brought you bottled water from a place near the bar which you messily gulp down. Strangely enough, you had no throbbing headache to contend with, and that was a first. Besides the dehydration and initial sluggishness you summarized that the symptoms were at least tolerable. Having John carry you around and pacify you wasn't a burden you wanted to place on him.

A small glimpse at your phone revealed that it was around nine thirty and showed a few messages from the group chat clocked at different times that you decided not to open until you made it home. You needed a moment to process one of the most satisfying nights you'd ever had.

There was a pleasurable soreness between your thighs, the area being your freshly nutted in cunt. Seeing as how you'd fell asleep right after there was no point in urinating. Sex had become such an essential ritual for the both of you. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't addicted to it already. What could you say? The man was gifted when it came to snatching your soul and you were sure his dick had superpowers. For you, it was mind/body battle everyday. Honestly, even now you felt a little embarrassed that you wouldn't mind initiating another session. Not only that but you didn't want to get used to wanting him, yet you didn't know if it was too late. For all you knew, you were probably knee deep by now.

To tell the truth, you were still debating if you wanted to fully accept his gift of money. Many people would happily take it with no questions asked. The man had casually left you a thousand dollars like it was nothing to him. Maybe it wasn't. Murder for hire seemed to be a lucrative business. A business that paid especially well. However, it still felt weird to appease each other's sexual needs then be given monetary compensation. For a while, you thought about what you could spend that money on. Though perhaps it was better to put the money in your savings for a rainy day.

You watched quietly as he resumed rearming himself while you gathered your bearings, carefully refitting weapons on his body. A handgun was placed in a holster strapped securely across his chest. A small knife was even positioned in a place on his belt. Having been acquainted with him for a while now, you knew that this was a normal occurrence before he left to go anywhere. It was his protection. And considering his line of work, it was heavily required.

Grimacing as you struggled to lift yourself up from the lying position, you moved into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, feet making contact with the carpeted floor. Without any prompting, John strode back over to you, with your discarded clothing, now neatly folded. Instead of handing you the clothes, he sat them on the bed next to you before gently moving the sheet that concealed your nudity. Your cheeks flushed but he'd already seen your exposed body many times before. There wasn't any point in getting embarrassed. He was planning on assisting you in redressing and you were definitely in dire need of that assistance.

Nothing about this was strange, John had always displayed a kind nature towards you and remained attentive of your needs in any setting. There wasn't a time where he didn't handle you with the utmost care. It was times like this where he voluntarily breached his emotionless facade in your presence that further cemented the fondness you knew he had for you. Receiving proof through affection and concern was a nice touch. Something about being appreciated sat really well with you.

Strong hands grazed over your moisturized brown skin, effectively lifting you into a standing position by your waist. Your corset top would be first, he pulled it over your head until it concealed your breasts once more. Surprisingly, you didn't feel any shame about how his keen gaze lingered over your chest as he completed the action. He then kneeled down directly in front of you, face dangerously close to your womanhood as he slipped your lace panties on, dept fingers lightly brushing over your lower lips. It caused your breath to catch as he continued on. He even took the time to sit you back on the bed and put your heels on. His nice actions were causing your body to stir against your better judgement. Meanwhile, you still had trouble getting over the image of him whispering a foreign language in your ear while stroking you out.

"Thank you."

You managed to pile all of your braids into a messy bun, it wasn't how you'd regularly style it but you desperately wanted it out of your face for the time being. It was all a part of the mental preparation for the walk of shame.

His deep baritone, composed and even. "Are you ready?"

Reaching over the nightstand, you retrieved your small purse. "Yeah."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Once a person exited that lift, the establishment was quite the sight. Unlike the previous night, the lobby/reception area was filled with men and women conversing and indulging themselves with copious drinks. This gave you full confirmation that the place served the needs of its guests of its exclusive patrons. One night here would probably cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Those with a modest pension like you could not afford such structured accommodation. You didn't think you had the pleasure of being in such a refined hotel before and it made you ponder just how loaded John was to be able to afford it for a few nights. From what you'd gathered so far, John was a very well-respected man. Most men and women made sure to acknowledge him in a respectful manner, almost as if they were honoring him in the best possible way with a short greeting.

In spite of this, the people still regarded you with a puzzling expression. Obviously, your paramour did not walk a woman through the hotel lobby often. John ignored the attention, merely keeping a hand at the small of your back as he guided you through the large space full of curious people.

Instead of heading straight for the door, John leads you to a chair near the concierge's desk mostly isolated from the other patrons and urges you to take a seat. "I'll be back. Stay right now."

Noting the seriousness in his voice that booked no argument, you simply nodded, not even asking where he was going. The hitman lingered a minute longer to give you a pacifying glance before he swept past, moving to speak to the concierge about something quietly. John then disappeared from sight, where he was going you had no idea.

Sitting in the chair, you listened to the general chatter of the huge room while waiting for the man to return. Luckily, you didn't get easily bored and managed to distract yourself by watching people go about their business. For a while, you managed to resist the urge to stay in your seat but you knew that could only last so long. After five more minutes, you make the executive decision against John's instructions to wander with the exception of not touching anything.

Glancing up, you noticed that the building had a beautiful ceiling that was illuminating a royal blue with designs that were like something out of the 15th chapel. The whole place was big enough to have not one but two lobbies, a lounge seating area, and a few nooks. Simply walking around, you'd attracted quite a few eyes. This of course wasn't that surprising as you were certainly out of place here. Last night's attire surely didn't make it any better. You'd without a doubt given the wealthy elite an eye full.

"Excuse me Miss, may I assist you in any way?"

The voice shouldn't have started you that much to the point of jumping.

The polite, concierge asked the question with a poised accent. He was a tall black man who wore glasses standing behind the lobby desk.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh no, thank you. I'm just waiting for a friend."

"As you wish. I am here at your leisure should you require anything."

"Okay."

"I must say, that must have been quite the interesting game last night."

Your face heated at the veiled statement despite trying not to make it obvious that you'd gotten screwed within an inch of our life last night. You refused to look the man in the face, too afraid that your eyes would give everything away.

"Umm, yeah it was." You utterly lowly.

The man said nothing else, possibly sensing your embarrassment and not wanting to add to it any further. You were grateful for this.

Having learned your lesson, you moved to retake your seat, deciding that you would remain there until John made a reappearance. Shortly after, John came back, the two of you began to make the journey to the elaborate double door entrance.

A trek that should have been short was soon intercepted by a woman stepping in between you both and the exit. Her attire was mostly black in color, a decently sized fur coat over her shoulders, with black boots. dark shoulder length hair, and overused eyeliner.

"John."

John inclined his head in greeting. "Perkins."

"I haven't seen much of you lately."

"Back from Munich so soon?"

The way she casually walked up to John demonstrated familiarity. If you had to guess, the woman had to be one of his colleagues. This couldn't have been an issue seeing as John was always polite and cordial to others. This woman's attitude was bothering you. Not the fact that she herself was bothered by you. This woman obviously had some conniving ass ways. She excluded such an arrogance and bitterness about her that immediately made you put your hackles up.

She smoothly removed her black gloves from her pale hands that looked like they felt cold to the touch. Black nail polish graced every single finger nail. Geez, was she goth or did she just have an obsession with the color black?

She was standing entirely too close to him, smiling and staring intently into his face. The very sight irked you a good deal. Making teasing remarks and placing a hand on his suit jacket. It gave you the sickening suspicion that the woman held some sort of interest in John other than being just colleagues. The superficial politeness was not fooling anyone, least of all you. You shifted, warily watching the pair interact.

Evidently, John and this woman had dealings but you didn't know how far those dealings extended. You'd already put money on it that she probably did the same kind of work as John. Regardless of whether you liked it or not, these two had history together and that was enough to warrant some kind of scrunity. Having gained all this information, you found that you didn't know what to do with all of it. In spite of the fact that, it made you a bit more curious about his past.

The biggest issue for you was that she spoke as if you were not standing there next to him. In view of this, it made it extremely awkward to take the dismissal of your person in stride.

Her goal seemed mainly to hold a conversation with and smile buoyantly at your male companion, all the while ignoring your existence. You noticed that John did not reciprocate the woman's blanant flirtatious attempts. Almost nothing could break through his stone cold demeanor that easily. No matter how one tried to flip it, her actions were rude in your eyes. Moreover, it really seemed like she was making an effort to flirt with him directly in front of you. And if you summed it up in one word perfectly, it would have to be childish. Completely and utterly childish. And you didn't play those types of games.

In a bold move, you cleared your throat loudly. The sound drawing attention from the seemingly one-sided conversation and unto you. You purposely cut her off whilst she was speaking and she cut her eyes venomously at you for a brief second. A faux smile then replaced the look.

"Oh...I almost didn't notice you there." It was then her eyes cut back to John. "Friend of yours?"

Okay, being a bitch was something she clearly liked. It was crazy because it didn't take much to be a decent person to others. You couldn't stand people that had the nerve to display assertiveness and uppity behavior all at once.

"Yes...I'm a friend of his." You answered swiftly before John, tone displaying as much fakeness as a two dollar bill.

"Oh okay. You know that's a nice skirt. I mean, not everyone can pull it off."

You expected her to say something like, "But it looks nice on you." And yet no comment of the sort left her mouth. It was such a backhanded comment. Almost like she was sneak dissing. Catching a glimpse of her lip quirking at the corner, served to enrage you further.

The hand that was at your lower back moved to wrap securely around your waist, if you had to guess, it was to keep you from attacking the provoking woman.

The nerve of her while she was standing here looking like a wicked ass witch in all black. What someone else thought about you wasn't your main concern, nor was it any of your business. But you couldn't ignore your temper being ignited. You had no problem letting the woman know that you got active. You needed to get away from the insufferable bitch before you drug her ass clean across the lobby floor.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again John."

John inclined his head, a clear favored action of his. "Perkins."

The woman then slid past you both, fur coat nearly brushing your shoulder on the way. A muscle in your jaw clenched as John resumed moving you out of the doors to the outside.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

It was so eerily quiet in the car besides the loud hum of the engine. By this point, you'd give your left lung for him to turn on the radio and engulf the space with some other sound. Quietly staring out the window at the passing surroundings was all you cared to do at the moment. Well, that and occasionally scrolling down your Twitter feed. You were sitting there quietly bristling in the passenger seat of the rumbling vehicle trying to come up with a reason to be angry with him. For all your wasted effort, you could find none. During the exchange, John had only displayed his usual countenance of stoicism. The two of you were not together, so why were you getting in your feelings about it? You could not expect anything from men whom you don't have a commitment with. And you feel that you were a confident enough woman to separate your emotions.

Becoming too emotionally invested could cause major problems from both ends. Although that whole encounter really rubbed you the wrong way. And you weren't the type to be jealous of another woman either. You didn't feel threatened per say but you did feel like you might be a threat to someone else. As things currently stood, you weren't sure if John held the same deep emotional connection as you did with him. So now you were in a sort of grey area, unsure of what to say or what to do. You didn't want confusion to be a regular occurrence when it came to John.

When the car pulled up to your apartment building, John took the key out from the ignition, bathing the car in silence.

"Do you still have to work?"

"Yeah."

"When will I see you again?"

"When I'm done."

Naturally, John still had business to take care of, meaning his schedule was too occupied for you to be around at the moment. He could be gone for days or weeks, it all depended on the work you guessed.

Unconsciously, your lip curled in, an action that happened when you were severely upset or disappointed. The expression didn't evade John's keen eyes, since being capable of reading people was undoubtedly an aspect of the lethal work he did.

Pulling on the door handle, you hurriedly left the car. John with a quickness that almost scared you, exited the car and rounded the vehicle before you could jog up the stairs. His experienced hands grasped a hold of your arms as John stared down at you. "Is there something wrong?"

Though your body language was dead giveaway and highly questionable. It was easy to sense the weariness. He had no right to wonder why you were feeling how you were currently. "I'm okay."

Sharp brown eyes hardened at the proclamation. "A lie."

It was a lie. A lie you knew he'd easily decipher. How could you forget - he was totally capable of reading you and your emotions. The notion left you slightly more irritated than surprised.

There was crushing tension in the air now, and you avoided looking at him even after he posed the question.

You tried hard not to falter under the normally calming gaze of his deep brown orbs, consoling you in their own silent way. Once again, reinforcing that profound, unspoken understanding between both of you.

Even more so, you made an attempt to turn away from his handsome face.

Regardless of how bad you wanted to, you decided not to voice your acute discontent. Too afraid of having to voice the issue out of fear of how it would be perceived. John was not the type of man that one threw heated accusations at and unleashed desperate emotions. Instead, you opted to shake your head in a firm 'no' to avoid bringing the topic to the forefront.

"Can you wait patiently until I return? Can you do that for me?"

The hand holding your face seemed like such a harmless gesture but it was more than enough to send heat flooding straight into your belly. Your heart was pounding like a bass drum the longer you stared. His actions filled your chest with a habitial warmth you'd grown accustomed to feeling with him, which was quite often. Despite his outwardly cold exterior to others, John possessed many qualities that made you melt. Even with his steely gaze trained on you.

He leaned in to place a kiss on the left side of your mouth and you froze up at the action. He'd never done that before. Not giving you a proper kiss. Your heart sank at the realization. Though you could be overreacting. Maybe the experienced assassin had considered that you probably wouldn't be open to kissing since you had yet to brush your teeth. That seemed to be a logical explanation. But nevertheless, a pang of hurt throbbed inside your chest and you couldn't dismiss it. Realistically speaking, you weren't even supposed to be feeling such nauseating emotions.

Against your judgement, you still found yourself nodding.

The intensity of his gaze always cut through you like glass and maintaining it was difficult. The look made you feel nervous, anxious, and fidgety all at once.

Utterly upset with yourself now, you leaned off the car moving to hurriedly slip past him and venture up the stairs towards the apartment building's entrance without looking back.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

You sighed as you leaned back against your apartment door. The scent of sandalwood evaded your nose, producing a calming effect. It felt good to be in the comfort of your own house.

You definitely needed a nice hot soak in your tub to ease some of the soreness you still felt from last night. The soak would also provide a clear mind for you. Plus you did some of your best thinking in the bathtub. Venturing straight into the bathroom, you turn on the taps and started your normal morning routine even though it was just now touching eleven. Afterwards a bath had been drawn and you added a few bath bombs from Bath and Body works before slipping into the water. Sighing as the water alleviated both your muscles and your mood.

Only after allowing yourself to relax did you truly let your mind wander on both today's and last night's events. You'd learned from some women that a woman will be naturally submissive to a man that they trust to lead. It didn't get much safer than in his arms. John Wick was a fundamentally good man (given that no one had a quarrel with him) in your eyes and no one's opinion could ever change that. What man could be so amicable despite killing people for a living.

The impersonal kiss only made you assume the worst. Any other time, he'd be spot on about the hygiene issue but after that interaction with the 'Perkins' woman, you'd surely appreciate a firm kiss on the lips if only for reassurance. Perhaps she was a past girlfriend he was still dealing with on the regular. You really didn't have much to go on. Flirting can look different for many people. There were different levels that ranged between innocent and inappropriate. You and John were not dating and of course he was appealing to other women. Who's to say you were acting ridiculous?

You really shouldn't be getting so worked up over something so trivial but you couldn't help it. What could you do? Withdraw from him altogether? This man had gone out of his way to kill people for you, there was no way in hell the man would accept that in stride.

The man certainly didn't fuck you like a regular hookup so it was hard not to be conflicted over the contact killer. It wasn't good to rely on a man for your happiness, you knew that from the jump. It was much too risky. On the other hand, you had to come to terms with knowing that there were moments where you felt intensely possessive of him. You craved his time and attention. When it came to him, he had the power to make you lose all rational thought.

Staunchly reminding yourself of that formal peck you'd received left an unfamiliar emotion bubbling in your chest, giving birth to more worrisome thoughts. And you were the type to cry when seriously angered. But why did you wish to feel so enraged? Was it a normal human response? No matter what it was, the worries wouldn't wither away so easily.

You just didn't find it logical to overreact about him exchanging pleasantries with another woman regardless of the circumstance. Maybe your pride was just hurt - hurt that other women might be receiving the same attention as you. Realistically speaking, everyone liked to think they were special in someone's eyes. Your someone being John.

Still, you refused to let the situation gnaw at you for an extended period of time. The last time you wanted to do was make a problem out of something that in actuality might not be a problem. To top it all off, you had a tendency to overthink things to the point where it had the power to make or break your entire day. And you weren't the type to ignore something because it made you uncomfortable. You had to grasp a hold of your incoherent thoughts somehow. There were other important things to worry about. You could this little hiccup take priority.

You took your time washing up before you ultimately left the tub. You changed into a shirt and comfortable sweatpants.

You witnessed him shoot a man through the head last night. You'd think any sane person would be bothered but you couldn't conjure up any feelings of sympathy. That man meant to do you harm. Though it did lead you to another set of unanswered questions like - how was he able to find you at the club?

What was up with the vibe of that hotel? How many assassins were there in New York? Could there possibly be a community of potential hitmen?

You had faith that God would safely take you out of a situation you had no business being in.

That wasn't the point. The two of you were from different worlds. And as different as you both may be, there were many common threads that kept you both tied together. The abundance of trust and reliance were evidence of that. With John your feminue energy flowed nicely. You didn't have to have any defenses up; didn't have to have any masculine energy because he had it all. All you could do was be a woman. Be you.

Everytime you get agitated you consider unplugging from all social media. Usually because you start to realize how draining interacting with people truly is. At this juncture, you weren't sure about interacting with people for the next couple of weeks, or months. On occasion, it helps you come back to yourself after a long week or event depresses you. You thought about sitting in front of the TV for the remainder of the day but that was more of a Sunday kind of thing instead of Saturday. There was a can of chicken noodle soup in your cabinet that sounded absolutely appetizing.

You would usually do a deep cleaning or cook a meal as a form of personal therapy. It was insane how doing what's best for you could feel so wrong because you're used to considering everyone else's feelings. It seriously left you with some legitimate concerns, you didn't want to end up in a self sabotaging situation. Regardless, you needed to get rid of the depressing vibe.

Luckily, you were able to call your friends over to keep you company for a while so you wouldn't feel lonely. They were too happy to oblige and even brought one of your college friends named Tre. Tre, humorously nicknamed, 'Trey Songz', was someone whom the three of you had met during freshman year and had been friends ever since. You generally liked when Tre came around because he was just so likable and funny even in the worst situation. He also was the one who offered advice on how men typically worked.

Everyone had piled in your bedroom like always and the chill session began.

"Tre, I thought I saw you with Jeremy." Jasmine remarked, her brows clenched together in confusion.

"You did. He went to his old lady house."

"Oh. Well what about you and Cece? Y'all still not talking?"

"Nope. Fuck her."

"Don't say that. You know y'all will be back talking by tomorrow."

"But we not though."

"Y'all get mad at each other over the stupidest stuff. Over some fishnets...really?"

"See...you all in my business and don't know what you talking about."

"That's what she told me trick!"

"She lied."

Alexis rolled her eyes. "It doesn't even matter cause y'all will be right back together. Mark my words."

Jasmine nodded in agreement. "Tre y'all need to get like Jeremy and Cece."

"Girl, please. Jeremy is pussywhipped. He do everything that girl asks him to."

"Good. That's what you need."

Tre immediately stopped rolling the weed, turning to give Jasmine a look. "Who? I'll be damned."

You screeched loudly watching the banter between your friends. They never failed to provide you with a good laugh.

"So Tre, what does it mean if you're messing around with a guy and he gives you money."

"Honestly, it depends. It could mean two things. One, he really likes you. Or two, you probably just a lil hoe to him. You know, do some strange for a little piece of change."

Alexis shifted her neck in your direction, a shit-eating grin on her face. "I'm just asking for a friend…"

You wordlessly mouthed, "Imma beat yo ass." to her while clenching your teeth. Sadly, Tre just so happened to look up and see your face.

"I know she's asking for you. I heard you got a little boo." He teased.

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, shifting to cross your legs on the bed. "First off, he's not my boo. And where you hear that from?"

He shrugged. "You know the streets talk."

At that statement, you looked right over at your friends - aka 'The Streets.' This was one of those times where you wanted to look into an imaginary camera like you were on an episode of The Office.

"He's just somebody I been talking to for a little minute." Talking being code for fucking.

"So he got money?"

"I mean...he's not wanting for nothing that's for damn sure."

"Ask her how much he gave her last time." Alexis urged, unable to contain the messiness that had been building for over a week. Telling Tre was just the icing on the cake.

All eyes turned to you in that moment, expecting an answer worthy of astonishment.

You rather not talk about John right now but at the entertainment of your messy ass friends you decided to indulge this one time.

"He left a thousand on my nightstand yesterday morning."

Tre nearly jumped from his seat. "A thousand?! Damn, what kinda job does he have to be handing out a thousand dollars?"

"I don't know about all that. That's not my business to tell."

"If I can tell y'all about all the details of my sex life then you can tell me what yo man do."

You felt it necessary to lie to them. There wasn't any way you could tell them that John dispatched people for money. It shouldn't have been that surprising though. Half the girls that live in the southside had drug dealer boyfriends that either attempted to kill someone or already have.

"Aint nobody told you to tell us that! You do that on your own!" Jasmine piped up.

"Look I can't tell you what the man does because I'm not too sure myself. If you happen to meet him, then you can ask yourself but you probably won't so…" You shrugged.

"Whatever."

"Oh yeah, did y'all hear that someone got shot at the club we were at last night?"

The question struck a thread of anxiety in your gut that you quickly pushed down in order to feign ignorance. There wasn't any doubt that your friends would side with you if they knew the full details, but at this point, you didn't want to chance it. Your main thought was to protect John at all costs.

"No, I didn't know that." You lied.

"Yep, someone shot him point blank in the head. Some girl found him in the bathroom."

Tre made a disapproving sound. "Shot that boy five times went to juvenile."

You let out a scream so loud you briefly wondered if the neighbors thought you were being murdered. That video with the little boy saying that was so funny that you'd rewatched it at least ten times. Hearing it come from Tre's mouth in such an amused matter made it five times more hilarious. You were grateful for their presence as you definitely needed a laugh right now.


	5. When You're Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm back. Sorry this chapter would've gotten out a lot sooner if I wasn't sick as a dog for two weeks straight. The way I was feeling, y'all there's no way I didn't catch the rona. I'm feeling much better so I'll be giving this fic a rest for a minute and work on the others. I feel like I've been neglecting them.

Chapter 5: When You're Gone

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Coincidentally, your friends stayed over til about eleven after watching a few movies and getting their fill of hilarious conversation. Alexis and Tre playfully bickered the whole time damn near on account of Alexis wanting to put everything on Snapchat. As they walked out of the door, Tre yelled out a clear-cut, "Imma burn one for you!" after learning of your social media break due to you refusing to look at your phone for hours.

It was about time to look for a new job or at least something to keep you busy. Merely sitting at home doing nothing was not going to cut it. You needed to find something to preoccupy your time in a productive manner you thought as you laid in your bed with the sheets up to your neck watching Shameless with the AC on full blast. Lamentably, your mind was all over the place with haphazard thoughts. Regardless of your emotional state, you absolutely refused to play Drake's 'Marvin's Room' or your favored tracks on The Weeknd's 'Trilogy' album you knew you couldn't resist listening to anyway.

First and foremost, you were a little angry at him because he didn't check the disrespect coming from his colleague in the first place. Despite having tough skin, or so you liked to think, your feelings were still easily hurt by certain things and certain people. Even if she apologized, you couldn't see the two of you becoming friends in the near future. Annoyingly, you head constantly replayed Cardi B's infamous moniker of "If a girl have beef with me, she gon have beef with me...foreva."

Nonetheless, you were still plagued by the question of "Was it uncalled for to feel this way under the circumstances?" Summarizing that you were too deep in your feelings about it for it to truly go away so soon. And it would have to be addressed sooner or later. It was only a matter of when. Frankly, you wouldn't be happy until you both were standing eye to eye.

Perhaps a trip to your parents house tomorrow would do you so good.

You reached over to retrieve your phone charging on the nightstand. Face ID instantly granted you access into the locked phone. There was an unread message from an unsaved number sent around two hours ago. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew it was him. Honestly, it was nothing to admit that you anticipated any contact from him. Be it text, call, or physical appearance. Entertaining the thought of only responding using emojis or gifs but you were much too tired to act immature.

"Are you well?"

A quick reply was typed. "Yes."

You expected a text back in somewhere between one and two hours, thinking that perhaps he was busy or just wasn't near his phone at the moment. What you didn't expect, however, was for him to Facetime you almost immediately after. With the phone vibrating in your hands, you still hesitated to answer even with the man you longed for on the other end of it. Rearranging the pillows behind you, you moved into a sitting position then took a deep breath. The green button was pressed a half a second later.

Perhaps he was lying down in darkness or something.

"Are you coming back today?"

"Afraid not."

You were not an expectant wife awaiting her husband's return but the disappointment in your chest couldn't be quelled. "Why not."

"Loose ends."

"That's unfortunate. Are you in New York at least?"

"Overseas."

Rolling your eyes none too subtly, you fell back into the pillows with a pout. Him not being in New York was the equivalent of waking up and seeing that Apple Music took money from your account. There was no telling when he'd been back now. You'd hadn't the faintest clue where he was and he didn't seem inclined to tell you. "What's overseas?"

"A target."

"Is it really that important?"

"Yes."

"Who's the target?"

"I can't divulge such information." As much as you wanted to be angry, you couldn't. The man had a job to do and he'd been doing it long before he met you. Whether a few days turned into a week or weeks - you had no power to change anything.

"Oh well. Hopefully, everything is going well."

A light switch went off in your brain, you had an idea.

"I guess I'll have to find someone else to keep me company. You know, with you being gone and all." Teasing him and challenging his authority was so fun. He couldn't tell you what to do, especially if he was in another country with his dick. Did he expect you not to be defiant while he was gone? It was likely so.

"That's unwise I assure you."

The man was surely giving you a hard stare that bespoke of his displeasure with your choice of words.

"Is it though? I'm here all by myself." Unconsciously, one of your hands slid into your tank top over your left breast. The action wasn't a sexual one, it was a habit picked up solely for comfort.

The other end of the phone was deadly silent, not a single sound could be heard. You knew you'd got a rise out of him.

"Let me see." His voice sounded lower, predatory and fully indicative of a man of self-control that knew what he wanted.

Even more, astonishing was his request - to say you were shocked was an understatement. You wished you could see his face, some description of a reaction would be helpful to know just what you were dealing with.

This was intimate and personal - as far as interacting with another person behind a screen. He'd given you a sexual request that he wanted fulfilled. It was a means for him to sate hidden desire while he was away. You would never expect something like this from him. The assassin was asking you to show your tits over the call. You weren't a cam girl. It was exceedingly hard to be sexy and keep the phone at a good angle. To keep the phone steady.

Overall, you didn't feel like he was pushing you out of your comfort zone. You slowly stripped away off your top, baring your breasts to the room and John's expectant sight. You supposed it wasn't that hard to execute since you weren't able to see his face while you did so. His appreciation helped boost your self-esteem and confidence. The feeling of seeking validation from a man was something you vowed to to never let yourself experience even under the threat of death.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Your parents house was located in a nice little neighborhood across town with little to no crime. Besides the 'Williams' who lived next door, they were the only black residents that occupied the neighborhood. The house had been the source of the family get together's ever since. Something your father had a love/hate relationship with seeing as he loved to host family events but wouldn't tolerate kids running through his house.

"Mama!" You called out.

"We're in the living room!"

After closing the door, you stepped into the archway that led towards the living room. Although you really liked the aesthetic, you still felt as if you weren't all the way familiar with the house seeing as they moved into it just two months shy of you going off to college. In spite of this, you still had a room set up for you should you decide to move back home or stay there for a few days. All courtesy of your father, who really hated the fact that you decided to go out and get an apartment in the first place. Not only were you his only child but you were a woman. He constantly worried for your safety. What parent wouldn't be? The shootout at the bar had mortified your parents to the point where they didn't even want you to get another job.

Sadly, it couldn't be helped. You moved into your apartment because you desperately needed your own space. It was nothing like having your own. Though you hated to admit it, sometimes your folks drove you crazy. After high school, you quickly came to the conclusion that paying rent every month was worthwhile than staying at home.

Your mother had Sunday dinner cooking on the stove while she sat in the front room with your aunt Denise sipping at a mug that was no doubt filled with coffee. The kitchen emitted a wonderful smell throughout the house that you would never tire of.

Once you came into view, your mother sat her coffee mug down on the table. "Well hello there stranger."

"Hey, my dusty mae!" You smiled fondly at the nickname your aunt had given you at three years old after you'd ruined a new dress your parents had bought by rolling in the dirt outside. Your mother was absolutely pissed about the incident and it still got brought up today. Regardless, you hugged both of the women.

"Hey auntie."

Delight flashed across her features. "Girl, I haven't seen you in so long. Where you been?" Aunt Denise asked, holding your hands in that kind manner she always did.

You shrugged. "School. Work. Those kids of things."

She inclined her head playfully. "Is that so? You ain't got no boyfriend do ya?"

The question gave you full pause. There was a lot of thinking about but then again, it really wasn't. Still, you didn't mean to hesitate with your answer.

Aunt Denise perked up. "Oop. You hesitated to answer."

"But I really don't have a boyfriend."

"Mmmhhh. Just remember, pound town is fun until you end up with a little pound cake in the oven. Ask your mother."

You made a face.

"Hey now!" You mother interjected.

"Your mother used to get on my last nerves talking about your father. Sneaking out the house when they were young and forcing me to be a lookout."

Your mother paused to retrieve and blew on her steaming coffee. "Don't get mad about something you volunteered to do."

You shook your head, trying not to smile at the scene unfolding in front of you. As sisters, the pair would argue about anything and it was the most amusing thing ever. It was always funny no matter what the subject was about. You actually attributed it to how you learned how to argue.

"I hear Marvin's daughter is pregnant again, you know she doesn't mind bringing them a grandchild home." Your aunt remarked.

Aunt Denise was your favorite primarily because she was the boujee aunt with no kids that always gave you money since you were a child. She was full of womanly wisdom and you could talk to her about virtually anything. Plus, she always supplied you and your mother with all the tea and family gossip.

"Well once my daughter brings home that degree, then she can bring me a grandchild." Your mother answered.

Your cheeks burned at the conversation topic, especially since you knew things that they didn't. For all your heady efforts, you and John would have about five buns in the oven by now if your birth control was any less effective.

Okay, you'd heard enough of this conversation. "Where's daddy?"

"He's out picking up something from the store. Been gone so long I don't even remember what I sent him out to get."

You snickered at this. Your father could be in his casket at his own funeral and would get up and leave if your mother asked him to. You were slightly surprised that your father wasn't barbecuing since he would literally use any excuse to get on the grill. Excusing yourself from the living, you made your way towards the kitchen.

Nearly jumping when your mother yelled from the living room, "Don't go in that kitchen messing with that food either!"

You bypassed the living room and started randomly rambling in every room you came across. Every time you came home you made it a mission to steal some household items ranging from food to cleaning supplies. Hopefully, you didn't get caught sneaking them out when it was time to leave.

You had half a mind to invite your friends to help but Jasmine was out of town with her mother and Alexis had to work a twelve hour shift at the shop today. Honestly, you felt for her. You knew what it was like to have a horrible boss and Alexis loved working at the boutique where she indeed had a shitty boss. With him and Alexis, there was always that atmosphere of tension and distrust. Who could work in such a tenuous and noxious environment. He tended to look over her talents and accomplishments. Not to mention, that she was one of the most valued and hardworking employees. Most customers, new and regular, favored her.

You were bothered by the fact that your time without him wasn't going by as smoothly as you'd hoped. More disturbed by the fact that you weren't able to push him out of your mind at least for a little while. The man occupied your thoughts more often than not. John Wick has surely left his mark on you in more ways than one. You missed everything about him, from the scent of his cologne to the feel of his hands on you. You didn't even question how he'd gotten your contact information and you were loath to admit that you actually approved of the crafty behavior.

The sun would be descending soon and you wanted to be back at your apartment by then.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

It's rather late now, past eight, the sky was tinged with darkness, clouds hovering aimlessly. You'd managed to get all your stolen goods home and with nothing else to do, you decided to partake in a deep cleaning of your apartment. You started with the kitchen first, working your way to the bathroom, your bedroom, and lastly putting away freshly washed laundry. You were basically running on autopilot, blasting music as you did so.

Once you made it back to your apartment complex, the sight of your distracted landlord inconveniencing another woman only prompted you to sneak past without being noticed. As you were certain he'd been awaiting your return.

From the first time you met him, you just got a feeling in the pit of your stomach. And it wasn't like you to ignore your gut feeling when it came to anything. First impressions can adversely affect a person's perception of you. For starters, his accent always put you on edge for some reason, that and his intense green eyes that often leered at you for long periods of time. It made you not want to meet his gaze at all. At one point, you were sure he'd memorized your work schedule. Plus there were multiple failed attempts to get your phone number, seeing as how you only wanted to be contacted or informed by email pertaining to any housing issue.

Renting is more convenient and affordable for a student like yourself. Paying rent meant not being responsible for repairs and having freedom from a lease the minute it was over. You couldn't for the life of you understand why your monthly rent just couldn't be dropped off by the front office. Why did he have to make an effort of coming by your flat to collect the payment. At the threat of harassment, you'd learned to limit all conversation and keep contact at an absolute minimum. You knew it was only a matter of time before he propositioned you. He had by one time to fuck up and you would sue the shit outta him.

Regardless of what the man thought, you were not vulnerable, be it socially or culturally.

A distinctive rapt on the door broke the peacefulness of the apartment and sounded over the music. Pressing the pause button, you made a slow beefline to the door, undoing all three locks. Turning the knob you opened the door to a welcome sight.

A strong, bearded jaw came into your line of vision. Lips were fixed into a straight line, piercing brown eyes trained directly on you as you stood like a scared rabbit caught in headlights. One thing that stood out was that his body was not clad in a tailored suit this time. Instead John wore a brown leather jacket, white shirt, denim jeans, and black boots to compliment his appearance. A stark contrast from his normal three piece suit. Aside from the actuality that you'd never seen him dress so casually, you had to admit that it rather suited him. No pun intended.

God, the nerve of you to want to joke at a time like this. You blamed it on bouts of socially awkwardness seeming from middle school.

Your heart was beating so fast you feared it might stop before long. Truth be told, you weren't expecting him back so soon. Figuring that when he came back he still might be a few days away from you. Yet, here he was, standing at your door. Images of what occurred last night flicked across your subconscious and that initial embarrassment came rushing back. You felt so frazzled and your appearance luckily didn't match how you felt at the moment. You felt a small amount of relief at that.

Shaking it off, you half-halfheartedly levelled him with the fakest hard stare before turning to allow him entrance into the apartment.

You had indeed lied to him about whether or not something was bothering you. Stubbornness preventing you from voicing your mind like you truly wanted to. Honestly, you should've known better, John paid attention to every little detail. Seriously, you could've just told him that you were feeling some kind of way from the beginning but no, you had to be dramatic and throw a tantrum.

Where was your sense of self-preservation?

A dark brow rose.

Attention shifted to an elaborately made package with a bow in his left hand.

"We need to have a talk about honesty." His tone made you inadvertently shiver. The man could make the simplest words sound sultry.

"Okay. Let's talk then."

"The day I left, I asked you if there was something on your mind. You were not honest with me."

"Yeah, so…" You nonchalantly proclaimed, folding your arms against your chest defensively.

John stepped closer until he was standing directly in front of you, with the height difference practically towering over you."If there is an issue, I want to be the first to know about it."

You faltered, visibly taken aback by his words. His serious nature and emotional stability on full display at this particular point in time. His sense of morality raising above his quiet introverted side. With the likeness of a scolded child, you turned your eyes away, choosing not to look at him.

"You must never lie to me. Never keep secrets from me. No omissions."

The world like it had withered away in that moment. Your heart pounded loudly as you listened to him. John brought his lethal fingers under your chin, prompting your eyes to meet his once more. "Do you understand?"

There was a brief period of silence, mainly because you needed time to pick your mouth off of the floor.

You could help but get the feel that he was an extraordinary man with extraordinary talents who just wanted to have a normal life. On top of that, he was a no nonsense type of person. A man of few words, full of action. There were a number of things he could do to reassure you. For example, shooting Perkins in the face could be one.

"Let's try this again shall we?"

Consequently, you left your brow twitch but you couldn't deny him the truth any longer. "I don't like your friend. Perkins."

A knowing expression etched itself onto his features.

"I'm aware."

Naturally, you had expected him to dismiss the event as inconsequential. It was such a typical male response and yet, you didn't expect anything else.

"Oh really? I didn't think you could tell with her hands rubbing all over your chest." You answered in a snarky manner.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you." His tone was no less neutral than when the conversation first started.

"I'm not jealous."

Men like him could be intimidating. His stare was penetrating, when he looked at you it was like he could see into the depths of your soul. You fought the urge to shiver as he brought up one to gently caress the side of your face.

"Perkins is a colleague. Nothing more."

"Whatever, I'm still mad at you." You made sure not to sound convinced on purpose. "What's in the bag."

John followed your gaze towards the bag sitting on your counter, he then moved to pick it up.

"Belgium Chocolate Chip Cookies." He noticed how your eyes lit up, the man was fully aware of your obsession with the baked sweets. "I made arrangements to get them since I knew you would like them. However, if you don't want then I'll..."

He was not surprised when you practically snatched the sweet confections out of his hands. Glaring at him for even suggesting that you didn't want the treats. "Still angry?"

"You're forgiven...for now."

Once you sat the cookies in your kitchen, John's mouth latched onto yours possessively, swallowing down the oxygen from your throat greedily. The kiss was full of entitlement. Everything about you belongs to him now.

Solid arms wrapped around your waist as you both stumbled towards the couch. You were soon lifted to straddle John's hips on the couch, legs pressed up against the sinewy muscle of his hip bone. Hunger flashed across his eyes the longer he stared into your face.

The union was so unexpected and surreal that you still had trouble believing that the two of you had even crossed paths. The level of connection was growing deeper and deeper everyday. John was quite the extraordinary man in those respects.

A loud knock at the door halted any further actions from taking place. The unexpected interruption forced you to pull your lips from John's in a haste. You had no idea who it could be knocking at your door this late but you had a hunch. Untangling your limbs from around the man, you briskly ventured to the door to a most unwelcome guest. Your unorthodox landlord stood eager and all too ecstatic to see you, having finally figured out that you were home. How he found that out, you couldn't begin to fathom. Somebody had to tell him because you were sure you'd successfully sneaked past him earlier.

"Hey there_. I'm here to collect the rent." His smile was no less creepy as he leveled it unto you.

You were no less uncomfortable as you stood in shorts that could definitely pass as underwear on a decent day. Without reciprocating his smile, you moved to recover your wallet from your purse across the room. Despite this, you could practically feel the sleazy man's gaze on your backside and no amount of trying to ignore it would take away how disturbed it made you.

"I like how you've decorated the place. Really adds a layer of individuality. I like that in my tenants."

You only answered a low "Hmm." to his totally eerie comment as you rifled through your purse.

A pair of comforting arms wrapped themselves around your waist and you panicked for a second before the smell of John registered in your brain. You cursed inwardly as you'd completely forgotten he was there. The hardness of his chest against your back calmed down a great deal. He was grounding method, a reminder that he was still there. That he would protect you from any and all. Heart giving a discernible thump at this.

Without further delay, you turned to John's arms, moving back towards the open front door where the obnoxious still stood, slightly bothered by the other man following closely behind you. You didn't like the way the man looked at you and apparently, John wasn't too fond of it either.

You were quick to hand the disgruntled man the money and shut the door before any further interaction could be made. A sigh of relief was breathed afterwards.

Lips skimming over your neck resulting in pleasant tingles all over. Pretty soon, you were swept off your feet and virtually carried to your bedroom and deposited softly on the bed. During the short journey, you'd gotten a whiff of his cologne and male musk, it left you intoxicated and burning with desire. Exploring hands caressed your chest ever so gently, kneading t-shirt covered breasts. John knew all about your erogenous zones, your chest being one of those.

He began trailing a line of kisses on your upper and lower lip respectively, giving a little nibble here and there. You hesitantly opened your mouth allowing him full access and he reclaimed your lips with a renewed passion. As expected, his tongue plundered yours almost immediately. The kisses were sensuous, wet, and all-consuming. The man was a seasoned kisser.

It didn't take long for your shirt to be lifted off your frame and your multicolored bra soon followed. Your right nipple ended up in his mouth while his left hand massaged the other.

Hands traced the curve of your back before moving downward to firmly cup your ass. As he massaged your buttocks, a tingling began in the pit of your abdomen. He appreciated your womanly curves, fingers traveling up and down your sides. Much attention had been drawn to your figure-hugging sleeping shorts.

"Up." His voice was smooth and rich, while his appendages moved to help you assume the position he wanted.

"Arch."

The one word commands caused an internal ache within your pussy. When he spoke, you listened.

You didn't really know what to expect being placed in this position, your cheek pressing into a pillow. His brow was creased in concentration as he stared at your ass. A thumb slides over your core through your shorts. The exploring thumb pressed harder, parting your lower lips without much effort, rubbing the aching mound with slow strokes. His actions left you even wetter.

Skillful digits hooked into your shorts expertly capturing your panties, then dragged both fabrics over your hips to pool on the floor.

The view from his angle, no doubt provided an obscene sight. Your blossomed hued anus was upturned to his gaze. To put it mildly, there was significant embarrassment on your part, just not enough where you were uncomfortable. In all fairness, you really like what he was doing to you in a confused sort of way. Stroking the inside of your thighs. Nipping and sucking on the flesh on the back of your thighs, lathering his tongue over the soft skin almost too indulgently. Not that you didn't mind, a few hickeys here and there never hurt anyone.

In a millisecond, John descended on your exposed pink bud flattening his tongue against it before ultimately diving the appendage inside the tight circle. Your mouth flew open with a silent cry, uncontrollable emotion rising in your chest, eyes fluttered closed.

John was giving you the tongue lashing of your life, to the point where you were starting to feel lightheaded. That, and you just couldn't get over the shock of John eating your ass. Over your course of sexual activity, you never had a guy choose to do something so sinful. So depraved. His ministrations left your asshole soaked with glistening saliva while he ravenously worked over your bud. Before you knew it, your thighs were quivering and you let out a whimpering cry of bliss. The slow suction and occasional grazing of lips and teeth had the power to do you in.

The heat of his wet tongue swirling and dragging across your delicate flesh making you whimper softly. The muscle was expertly wiggling and curling inside your tensing pucker. With each movement, your pussy clenched sporadically. The probing was making you lose your mind. Your opening grew more soaked, juices gushing along your folds. Adding insult to injury, John was occasionally lapping at your heated core hungrily, devouring the essence.

Unable to help yourself, you pushed your hips back into his face, the wonderful pressure causing you to grind on his face. Nearly startled when two fingers slid into your warm sleeve, slowly pumping in and out. An orgasm ripped through your body at that moment, frame bowing under the ardent euphoria. Gush after gush of juices flowed from your opening and John didn't miss a beat as he slurped up every last drop, leaving juices glistening in his neatly trimmed beard.

Your eyes snapped shut, lungs attempting to pull in desperate gasps of air. John no doubt noticed this and pulled away.

The sound of a belt buckle being unfastened drew your attention as you lay heaving from over stimulation on the bed.

Uneven breath hitched in response.

Hands slid down your legs until they ended up hooked under your knees and pushed back to your chest. Your legs were soon spread apart to his erotic fascination displaying your soaked passage.

The mushroomed head made contact with your hot, dripping entrance. Positioning the head snugly against your sopping wet opening, his length sank into your shivering body in a single fluid motion, sinking in until he bottomed out. He made sure to maintain eye contact the entire time. Mouth falling open, you couldn't help sucking in a weak, shuddering breath as his heavyweight, pressed your body into the soft mattress.

John carefully gathered your braids, moving then up and over the pillow that held your head.

Alternating between long, deep strokes, his veiny shaft that damn near touched the bottom of your stomach. For a moment, you thought you might die from the sheer pleasure of it all. Sex with him was always blindingly intense, like drowning in a sea of ecstasy. Every nerve ending in your body was aware. You couldn't stop your gut from clenching. The slow pounding was guaranteed to put you to sleep right after.

Clear moisture flowing evenly from your succulent entrance as he reseated himself into your inviting depths. He was soon pounding in earnest, the strong tempo of his hips was mind-numbing. The headboard began to hit the wall with each movement. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to move. All you could do was wail brokenly while he hammered into the strangling orifice that was your pussy.

With little effort on your part, you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back at the sensation. By your own delirious account, you thought it had to be some kind of divine intervention that kept your soul from leaving your body at that moment. He swooped down to capture a nipple in his mouth and sensation took the very breath out of you. Hands reaching out blindly, you searched for something to grab a hold of. Fingers soon entwined themselves in his dark mane, holding him closer to your chest. Your spine arched as he deliberately deepened his stroke, the angle causing the head to batter that bundle of sensitive nerves nestled in your core. The ecstasy was nearly painful. Your body was drawn tighter than a bow.

The dark haired embodiment of death hond in on your sweet spot like a true tactician, holding deep eye contact the whole time. Eyes beginning to water from the intense stimulation being induced up on your spasming body. The realization that this was why you were crazy about him was starting to set in.

John watched intently as the outline of his dick was made visible pounding the bottom of your stomach. He always had to readjust his grip tighter and amplify his ministrations when your body started to contract around his. Your entire body started shaking, releasing a tortured moan, body bathing his shaft in creamy secretions.

John was not a vocal person, even in the throws of passion but somehow you'd gotten more than a few vocalizations out of him. Being able to coax groans out of him seems like a one in a lifetime achievement. He panted as he licked up the column of your throat, breath hot against your skin. Feeling his dick pulsate when he cums inside of you is top tier.

You were coming apart at the seams.


	6. Hating Mondays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wanna start by expressing my gratitude for all the concern you guys have shown me over my health. I'm much better now. I know I said that I would give this story a break but I can't seem to stay away for long. Plus seeing all the enthusiasm for it really gives me a boost in confidence. Also, a chapter for Heat of the Moment is coming soon so stay tuned!

Hating Mondays

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Awaking from a sleepy haze, you felt light consistent breaths against your skin. A stark contrast to the temperature of the room as this air was much warmer. Practically every breath and heartbeat was perfectly in sync with one another. You felt relaxed and content with your head on a fluffy pillow with cool sheets resting on bare skin. Brows creasing in confusion, the drowsiness just beginning to recede.

John's face was buried between your breasts, the weight of his naked form pressed intimately against your overheated body despite how cool the room was because you refused to sleep in a room that was too hot. His usually styled hair was disheveled, an indication for some that he'd slept particularly well throughout the night. You like to think you and last night's activities had a lot to do with that. Interestingly enough, you never thought you would be a fan of cuddling but you also never envision a man like him would be susceptible to kissing either. His right arm was trapped under your side and his left arm was settled just over your hips.

From your awkward angle, you could see how relaxed and placid his expression was; not currently school in his normal indifference. You had to wonder if times of peace were rare for him. One wouldn't think that the noxious man whose face was currently buried in your chest could equate to being wholly responsible for regularly sending numerous people to the afterlife. And with so little feeling involved afterwards. You'd seen it with your own eyes. The way no emotion passed over his face as he swiftly dispatched people he'd been contracted to kill. Still in the midst of thinking and sifting through your emotions, you found that this man held an important place in your heart nonetheless. John Wick definitely had access into your mind and body the way that no one had. Heavily involved in a purely sexual relationship or not, the connection was cosmic.

Notably dealing with the basis of the relationship. As the relationship was still deceptively complex to offer any true understanding. And as far as your 'understanding' went you both were downright breaking all the casual sex guidelines. The prolonged proximity being a major component. This was the second time John stayed overnight and you fully regarded it as another sign of trust. Expect this time, he'd chosen not to make his exit before you awoke. It was quite the daunting experience on your part. Although you surely didn't expect to find that he was still here, wrapped comfortably around you like he was; basking in post-coital bliss the following morning. Like clockwork, anxiety strived to ruin your mood altogether. How long would this last? Another week, a month, a year perhaps? Only time would tell.

Having recognized that, it was here that you found yourself at a loss and were currently asking yourself 'now what?" a million times in your mind. Undoubtedly scrambling to figure out a solution to make things less awkward to make up for the fact that you would have no idea what to do if he suddenly woke up. You took a concentrated breath to collect your thoughts before you went about your next course of action.

To get your day started, you most definitely needed a shower. Still you were reluctant to leave your little bubble of contentment. But in spite of that it had to be done so with the carefulness of a nurse attending to a newborn, you went about gently removing yourself from John's form. In all, you spent about five minutes inching off the bed without trying to alert him and it seemed to work to your advantage. Though you were mildly surprised that he managed to stay asleep, you accredited it to your patience and the painstaking effort it took to complete the task. You did a couple of stretches to force your limbs into wakefulness, hoping to work out the kinks in the process. Glancing over his still slumbering form, you noticed a gun on the bedside table. Bizarrely, you didn't remember seeing him remove it from his person when he carried you to the bed. You did, however, know that he always had one on him. John was the epitome of 'Run up get done up.'

With that thought in mind, you crept into the bathroom as quietly as you could. With as much as you paid for rent, you'd think they'd up the water pressure as a courtesy. The water felt like gentle rain pelting your skin and the shower head wasn't to blame. The steam that bellowed into the bathroom faster than you like and sometimes it made you feel like you were suffocating. Standing under the stream of water only one thing occurred to you - Mondays were most definitely your least favorite day of the week.

The fact that the thought of cooking him breakfast was surprising enough without it having to be explored in detail. It wasn't wounding to admit that you found cooking for John quite the appealing option; deciding that it had more to do with hospitality than an affectionate gesture of fidelity. Although you might be in denial since the notion of preparing breakfast for your last boyfriend you'd had just over a year ago in college had never even crossed your mind. Usually coldly encouraging him to have a bowl of cereal when morning came. The difference was certainly astonishing. Even as you filtered through thoughts you couldn't put your finger on what that might entail - the real implications of what it could mean.

You were almost halfway towards the kitchen to prepare yourself a nice bowl of apple jacks before knocking on the door halted that idea. Your friends nearly gave you a heart attack the way they just bull rushed inside your apartment.

"Girl, why aren't you ready? I texted you that we were on the way." Jasmine shrieked.

"Now you know damn well that one the way could mean still in the bed with you."

"Well I'm here now aren't I? And she ain't ready."

"Shhhhh! Stop being so fuckin loud!"

"What's wrong with you? You actin like yo mama here or something." Alexis said, giving you a look.

"It's worse than that! He's here."

"Who?" Both girls' eyebrows went up, obviously realizing that the situation must be dire for you to react the way that you were.

"John. He's asleep in my room."

"Ohhhh. So y'all just parlaying up in here huh?"

The subtle elation at having them show up at your apartment was quickly overshadowed by the reminder that John was still fast asleep in your bed. You didn't even have time to beat your face like you wanted. You quietly bid them to go wait in the car outside since they couldn't be trusted to be silent while you rushed and got ready.

Doing a quick rummage through your closet, you ultimately settled on a form fitting brown, while, and blue romper that provided a glorious view of your backside. Not your idea of causal but but it would do for now. Plus the cute fit greatly complimented your mocha especially well, it was mainly the reason why you bought it in the first place. It would provide decent cover from the persistent wind chill that you weren't confident you could withstand wearing a dress and cardigan. The weather was veering towards hoodies and cold nights. Honestly, it was to be expected since the past summer mouths were reminiscent of hell.

In the bathroom mirror, you applied a light coat of foundation and some lashes that would serve nicely in place for your lack of time, giving you a bare face kind of look. By your own standards, you looked presentable. The summation made you think of the girls who proudly boast about only wearing lip gloss and lashes. The ones who believed that they were superior to other women because they didn't have to wear makeup as often. It was unbelievably stupid. What was the point? You'd rather for them to admit that they didn't know how to open apply makeup and move on. Besides it was nothing a good YouTube tutorial couldn't fix. You hurriedly threw your makeup products into the bag and cleaned the area around your sink.

Even after you'd showered and gotten dressed, he still hasn't moved from his original sleeping position. He must really be tired. Naturally going against conventional wisdom, you decided not to tell him that you were leaving with your friends as he would probably be stunned to find out that you were gone when he finally woke up. Instead you made a split-decision to leave your whereabouts on a blank sheet of notebook paper and an estimated time of when you'd probably be back. Adding that he could help himself to anything in the fridge should he be hungry. The note was then placed on your empty spot on the bed next to him.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

There was a black-owned nails shop located just downtown called the Nail Lounge that Jasmine had been dying about visiting but wanted to wait until all three of you were available. The shop was owned by a woman who was the daughter of one of Jasmine's mother's coworkers. She was young and fresh out of cosmetology school by a few months. Of course she would wanna get the word out and bring in as much business as possible. All three of you had made a collective decision to skip classes for the days citing a self-care day. As a freshman, this would've worried you to death but now as an seasoned upperclassmen - you couldn't be bothered with perfect attendance. Fuck them classes.

Stepping inside the place, you almost instantly got a welcoming and relaxing vibe. After spending nearly ten minutes looking at the color palate, you decided on your usual white, long acrylic, coffin nails. Of all the colors, you could never go wrong with white. Jasmine decided that she only needed a fill-in of her current set while Alexis was her usual extra self and got a mani-pedi along with a top lip wax. Which would ultimately result in them being there much longer. You would mind if your technician wasn't so damn friendly and conversational. Her name was Taylor and she'd been doing nails out of her house since she was nineteen while she attended college where she met the owner of the shop. The two became good friends. It was a friendship origin story you could fully appreciate in the meantime. Though you had to clench a fist to keep from tensing up as the technician did a deep exfoliation scrub on your left foot.

A little over an hour and a half you three were walking out of the shop having left a hefty tip, Alexis then chose a nice little Italian restaurant courtesy of google search to have brunch in. The decor was modest and pleasing with a typical Italian aesthetic. After ten minutes of looking over the extensive menu, the waiter came to take your orders and as usual the three of you fell into conversations of various topics.

Alexis seemed to be expressing enthusiasm for another girls night out soon - something you knew would result in you drunk as fuck in the back of an urber wondering where it all went wrong.

"I'm still kinda fucked up from the days ago." Jasmine mentioned, fork poking around her huge plate of spaghetti.

You interject taking the occasional bite from your plate. "You ain't lying."

"The liquor store is calling my name." Alexis added.

"Well it's definitely not calling mine. Drinking turns me into a whole different person."

"I mean that's normal. And it should be fine, especially since you bagged a white man. With that liquor in your system I'm sure you can show him some things he's never had in his life."

"I don't really think he's white. I think he's something else."

"Something like what? Middle Eastern?"

You gave another shrug. "I don't know. He gives me Jason Momoa vibes. Like he could be a mix of multiple ethnicities." Speaking of Jason Momoa - everybody knew that Lisa Bonet was the pussy supreme for having both Lenny and Jason on the best terms two guys can be on after being with the same woman. If that wasn't Black Girl Magic you didn't know what is. Miss Bonet needs to write a book.

Speaking of John, you felt a little bad about leaving him at the apartment for your girls but you blamed it on need for a mani pedi. As a woman you should never feel sorry going treating yourself, mentally allocating that maybe you'd latched on harder than you originally thought.

If you were dealing with another guy and had an incident similar to the one with the Perkins woman, you'd never want to deal with the man again. Truth be told, you'd never hated a woman over a man because you couldn't value men over women. At the same time, you admitted that you weren't keen on sharing him with another woman. In hindsight, there was reason to believe that John valued you enough to where you wouldn't have to worry about other women. Somehow John didn't strike you as a commitment type of man. Honestly speaking though, that didn't stop the anxiety from hanging over you. The last thing you wanted to delude yourself. You might have strong feelings for him but that didn't mean you'd chase after him.

One thing you learned about men was that they were gonna do whatever they wanted to. Therefore considering them in every decision you make was detrimental. As a matter of a fact, John had convinced you that there was nothing going on and you somewhat believed him. But it couldn't be that you were easily persuaded could it? You refused to believe it.

The topic of conversation needed to be switched soon, you didn't really want to linger on it too long. "What's up with you and PJ?" You asked Alexis.

"We're good. He took me out to this nice little steakhouse the other day. Those rolls were so good, I damn near had a stroke."

"I can't wait until you post him on your snap. Andreas is gonna be so sick." Jasmine laughed.

"As a dog."

"Why haven't you posted him yet?" You inquired, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Timing is everything. Just gotta wait for the right time is all. The trick is to give him some hope of us getting back together. Then crush his heart. PJ said that he was going outta town this weekend so guess where imma be? Outta town with him."

"As you should."

"My bag is already packed."

Jasmine nodded in approval. "Pack your best outfits and be sure to get out in them streets."

"Oh you don't have to tell me. I'm assembling all my hoe fits."

"Here for it."

It was silent for a moment as the three of you settled into digging into the plates of food on the table. Only broken when Alexis received a ping notification on her phone.

"Chile…" Alexis sat her phone on the table to allow you and Jasmine to see the text message notification. "I'm not taking the bait."

"Well, you can't play dead forever." Jasmine said.

"Watch me."

You shook your head at this. "I hope he blows your phone up just for that."

"Bitch that block button works just fine. I'm not losing no sleep."

"Don't block him, he's just tryna communicate."

"Well considering the circumstance that won't be possible. First off, he got caught cheating. Then had the nerve to be talking about a break. Fuck a break. I'm finna slide while you figure out what you want."

Seriously, you didn't blame Alexis. Men these days thought they were slick, often finding out too late that women could be baby oil if they wanted to.

"Well he's sneaky, sneaky."

According to FB, he was active four hours ago." Jasmine mentioned, scrolling her feed.

"But he hasn't posted in nine hours."

"He's doing something or someone." Alexis insisted.

"That does not mean that."

"So anyway girl, like I was saying…"

You and Jasmine burst into laughter than had you stomach cramping something fierce.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

John's not there when the three of you return to the apartment and you breathed a sigh of relief inside. As much as you loved them, you didn't trust your friends not to embarrass you if they got the chance to meet him. Let's be real, you didn't expect him to understand the essence of a black female friendship. You were certain that he wouldn't appear uncomfortable in their presence if he did choose to show back up if they were still here, probably only observant of the lively dynamic and banter amongst the three of you and keep his distance.

Jasmine and Alexis left after about an hour and with nothing better to do, you took up your place on the couch in front of the tv where you decided you would stay for a while.

The time is just pushing around four in the afternoon and you realize that you've spent a good chunk of the day lounging around. With tomorrow looming closer, you were already dreading it because you knew that your professor would work your nerves before you even made it to the interview. Worse still, the interview could end up being a major break for you yet your excitement was being squandered by the person who'd set it up.

When dealing with men your guard was up, now in this circumstance your guard was nowhere to be found per say. Like it was being blocked somehow. To be frank, you weren't entirely sure if it was the intimate connection or penis doing the blocking. All you knew was that when it came to him, you were forever hot and ready like a deep dish pizza from little caesars. Probably because the contract killer went above and beyond satisfying any sexual impulses. A high sex drive was relatively healthy for a man in his prime.

It took a strong man to persevere in this life doing what he did. In all your years of living you'd never known nor met anyone who lived an even remotely similar lifestyle that John did. How did he carry on in his daily life? With varying degrees of normality? You wondered where his place of residence was. You doubted that he had to deal with a sleazy landlord. The way John lived outside of his work was entirely a mystery to you. From what you gather, he seemed like a pretty closed off individual. Was it possible to know more about him? His lifestyle, his occupation, what his life was like before said occupation.

Of course they conversated but never too much about his personal or professional life. Though you didn't take him for the type to flat out bare his soul to you, John was a nice man, a sensible, rational man who was very polite and never raised his voice. There were plenty of men who were nurturing; John and your father being prime examples. Apparently, those older men would come through every time. His calm behavior brought on blind obedience that you had idea you were capable of. He was miles away from your favored type yet he could read you like a book. You didn't know another man like him. The desire to understand and experience him was strong. For you dating wasn't all that hard, you just chose to give it a break for a while.

You got the impression that he wasn't used to this kind of thing either despite the interesting adjustments for them both. No question that it was highly uncharacteristic for him to bestow any woman with special treatment. Not knowing that this was a first for you as well. He knew more about your likes and dislikes than you did about his. There wasn't a day that went by where you didn't wonder what he thought of you. But you knew in your heart that there was no telling what he was thinking. Of all the times to wish you were a mind-reader.

Did he think you were mature? While it should be recognized that you hadn't completely shaken off your childish ways, you were only twenty-two.

You would only remain curled up on the couch for a few hours until a knock at the door interrupted that. At first, you were heavily considering ignoring it. But by the fourth knock you had no choice but to consider a different course of action. All you wanted to roll over doze off again.

When you opened the door you hadn't expected your weird landlord to be standing eagerly behind it. He perked up at the sight of you, smiling brightly despite the scowl planted on your face. He had an envelope in his hand that looked like it had your name on it.

"Hey _, I noticed that you hadn't picked up your mail yesterday so I thought I'd bring it to you."

You regarded him for a few moments before asking, "Why didn't you just leave it in my box?"

"I didn't know if you were home so...I just thought I'd hand deliver it to you." He said, offering you the mail to which you quickly snatched.

The explanation made absolutely no sense whatsoever and there was no way he didn't know that. The sheer absurdity of it nearly made you laugh aloud and you probably would have if only you didn't want to give him the impression that you thought his actions were out of the kindness of his heart. He was expecting you to invite him into your apartment - something you would never do even if he insisted. You knew exactly where his stare was fixated.

"Thanks but next time leave it in the box." You moved to shut the door but his foot blocked it.

"Wait, umm can I take you out sometime? Like a movie or you can come over to my place…"

Your brows drew down in irritation mostly because you didn't feel like dealing with this shit today. "No, thank you." Just what the fuck was up with this guy?

Ever persistent the man seemed intent on not letting you close the door in his face. In fact, he was just one step away from forcing himself in and you increased the force you used in order to try and move his foot.

Swerving your gaze over his shoulder, your heart constricts once you spot your lover striding down the hall towards the direction of your apartment, his face naturally carrying it's usual seriousness especially since finding the man within your vicinity again. In spite of the fact, you were a little shocked you couldn't be happier to see him at the moment. He wasn't kidding when he'd insinuated that he would pop up to save you should an issue arise. John was radiating that deathly aura again, the one that makes your hair stand on end. You knew that if given leave - John wouldn't hesitate to incite violence on the man if he felt the guy was a threat to you in any capacity. And the man was looking like quite the problem showing up at your place constantly. This could turn ugly very quickly.

John stood stock still behind the man before he eventually realized it. You couldn't help but notice how John towered over the mousy landlord, glowering at him like an owl preparing to devour its recently caught meal. John was practically burning a hole into the side of the man's face once he turned to give you a panicked look once more. The look John gave the man was enough to have your skin crawling and the look wasn't even on you. Your landlord was perturbed, having no idea that he was literally staring into the eyes of death itself. Even you could sense the man's unease as he bared the full weight of John's ire. It was obvious that the landlord didn't know who he was dealing with.

Just John's stare felt like a threat in itself and you were positive that the hitman wrapping his arms around you yesterday was a warning. A warning that went ignored but a warning no less. Sooner or later John's patience would run out and this badgering landlord would be dead. And you wouldn't blame John. The man's behavior bordered on harassment. You wouldn't stand for it and neither would John. You just prayed to God that he wouldn't pull anymore slick shit like this anymore for his sake.

With no more words forthcoming, the man eased around John and took off down the hall. You were more than rattled by the experience, placing a hand over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heart. You let John in with no questions and locked the door hastily behind him. That told you just how wary you were.

"Is that going to become a problem?"

"It already is, it's just the least of them right now." You answered?

After this whole ordeal, you got the impression that John wasn't too keen on your landlord. Something had to be done about that. The thought of being alone with him made you scared shitless. You were absolutely positive that if your landlord got his way, you'd end up chained in a basement somewhere. Nonetheless, you were beyond thankful for John showing up the moment he did. You guessed it was natural for him to feel the need to protect you given that you both were in a sort-of-kinda relationship. Some would call it a long term booty call but whatever.

You felt a little awkward after that altercation, not that you had anything to feel awkward about. You retook your place on the couch a little surprised when John silently followed. You expected him to be off on a job and not be seen for a few days just like in the early stages of the situationship. The man himself was used to disappearing for long periods of time with no explanation. The thing that disturbed you though, was that he yet to show you any affection and it seriously worried you. Was he upset about you leaving this morning? You weren't sure but the lack of attention was starting to grate on your really sensitive nerves.

Everyone has a different layer of emotions. John Wick was not very emotional on the surface so you kinda have to navigate carefully. The man was not easily moved or affected at all. There was a high indication that he was emotionally unavailable. This shouldn't be so surprising for a man in his profession. Even for all your time together he had yet to open up. Though you felt anxious not knowing where you stood. One thing you knew was that he was a very direct person and it didn't take a rocket scientist to ascertain that your communication styles were vastly different. Both of you were different in culture as well. He wasn't on Snapchat, didn't watch Love and HipHop, and probably didn't know who Cardi B was.

If you had to take a guess, he'd gone home to shower and change clothes. That was the most logical explanation since you didn't think that he had a side job apart from the one in the killing business. Still it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Where did you go?"

"Home."

You had no idea how to respond to that statement and he clearly didn't see fit to expand on it any further. Maybe it just wasn't any of your business. You settled back into channel surfing with him sitting on the other end of the couch. Something told you that he wasn't a good conversation starter and neither were you.

After a while you notice that he's been looking at you for a long time and you could tell that he was thinking of something. You hoped he would say something soon to break the ice, you didn't want there to be a miscommunication between the two of you.

"Oh well, me and the girls went to the nail shop today." You held up a hand for him to see and placed both feet into his lap. "Do you like it?"

You thought he might not like his personal space being invaded, deciding to test the waters a bit. There was nothing wrong with a person wanting their boundaries to be respected. You didn't want to come off as pushy either. If he cared about personal space, he certainly wasn't making it known.

Your heart skipped a few beats and you thought it was time to be taken to the king once one of his hands gently took hold of your feet and inspected it.

"Yes." He said as he planted a kiss on base. "I do."

The sweet moment was soon ruined when he skimmed over a tender spot on your foot making you squirm and let out a giggle. His brows went up in subtle surprise at the reaction. He'd just discovered that you were ticklish. Lips turning up at the corner, John secured a good grip on your foot and started massaging it. Unable to escape, you let out a series of giggles which only increased in volume the longer the torture went on. No matter how many times you tried to yank your foot out of his grasp the attempts proved futile.

And just like that, your shitty monday had been transformed. This was the pick me up you needed. Reassurance hits differently when it's not asked for.

You felt as if you looked good today and apparently good enough to easily ensnare the full attention of a certain someone who was looking at you under a heavily lidded gaze. Twenty solid minutes into reality television, an arm comes over to pull you closer to him. He gently pulls you onto his lap with minimal effort and you hated that you were so hyper aware of his every action. His eyes - they always had the ability to lure you in. The smell of his cologne was pulling you in a daze. On top of everything else, he looked absolutely mouthwatering.

The sexual tension was heavy in the air and you rejoiced at that. You thought perhaps he would continue to hold you at arm's length with no want for anything beyond that. It felt so damn good to be wrong.

You immediately thought back to the night before. Last night was life changing. You remember how it felt when he deliberately stuck his tongue into your most unexplored place and couldn't stop your body from clenching and your cheeks from heating up. He got you wetter than the Nile River. The north remembers. How in the hell did you manage to bag this man of all men?

"Have you been behaving yourself milaya?"

What was that? That foreign word? The way he spoke it sounded affectionate so that was your first clue. You couldn't tell if it meant due it being a part of another language - it didn't sound like a phrase or a demand. You'd paid enough attention to know that this was the first time you'd heard the word leave his mouth when addressing you. Unlike him, you were not bilingual. In high school, you'd taken a spanish class that you somehow managed to pass with a low B. There weren't many words from that language that you could remember since it was so long ago.

He watched as your depression morphed into one of confusion. The resulting amusement in his eyes became visible soon after and that left you even more perplexed.

His arms tighten until you nodded an answer.

"Words." He demanded, that enigmatic aura wrapped around him.

"Yes."

You didn't really believe in labels all that much. You absolutely hated that you were now at the 'what are we?' stage. You always thought you were too good to ask that question to anyone. Oh how the tables have turned. The new development was worrying. You never knew what he was going to do and that fear of the unknown always kept you somewhat on the edge.

"I have an interview with a local news station tomorrow sanctioned by one of my professors. Jasmine volunteered to take me."

John turned his head to level his perceptive gaze unto you. "You don't have a car?"

"None. I'm working on it. I've been saving up for about two years but someone big always comes up and drains my savings. I mean it's cool because not having a car really didn't affect me all that much since I usually walk or take the train."

"It'll work itself out."

"Yeah, I have faith it will."

There was a nice outline in the front of his pants, you tried but failed to ignore. Simply giving in when you realized the reluctance was pointless. Leaning back a fraction, you moved a hand in between the two of you towards his crotch. One of his hands stopped that action before it could take place and a pout would make its way unto your face shortly after. You didn't want to seem moody because honestly speaking you had no real reason to be. Sex isn't exactly on your mind right now, you'd rather just enjoy his company for the time being. He truly enjoyed being in your presence and he let it be known through words and actions. It did cause your chest to warm significantly.

You didn't have to do anything. You could just watch tv and it would be fine with you. It could go either way.

You'd learned that John was a very solitary individual. There was a hollowness about him - almost like he didn't engage with feeling. A definite effect of not living a normal life if that wasn't already obvious. You could bear the perpetual silence, since silence didn't necessarily mean he wouldn't communicate. It was still too early for him to shed his neutral mask. While you were a healthy mix of extroverted and introverted, the hitman was heavily introverted.

You felt so comfortable and safe around him it was perplexing. John's deep, brusque voice always made you weak in the knees. You loved to hear him speak and it was rough seeing as he was the very definition of a man of few words. It was almost as if you couldn't get enough of him. Oddly enough, you had never had much of a sex drive before you met him. Being so close to him sparked an irrational excitement. After yesterday, you'd gladly drop your panties with no hesitation. Beyond that, you had no problem initiating, in fact, you would do just about anything to get him to stick his dick back inside you; more than aware of what it could do.

This was more than a shallow attraction to one another though having to psychoanalyze everything was something you'd grown to hate. The best course of action would be to just live in the moment. Bask in it for the time being. Who knows how long it would last. While it sucked to even consider, sometimes you just gotta be like - 'it was fun while it lasted and move on with your life.' It was most definitely easier said than done especially due to the fact that it would absolutely kill you to have part with his dick. Too bad your mind and body operated separately from one another.

What was between them would remain unspoken, for now at least.


	7. Chapter 7: Sweet Consecration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm back! 2020 has been kicking my ass for the longest. 2021 me please! School has started back off without a hitch and I already have 52 assignments due by next week. First off, let me start by saying I am not one of those writers who are blessed with the ability to write a full chapter in one day, even though I wish I was. I would put out soooo many chapters in such a short time, it's not even funny lol. I'm somewhat of a perfectionist who needs time to brainstorm and construct the next chapter. Plus, I love long chapters so be patient with me. Writing porn with plot is clearly my expertise so be prepared because things are about to start getting juicy from this point forward! Thanks for encouraging me! Enjoy my loves!

Chapter 7: Sweet Consecration

xxxxXXXXxxxx

You didn't know why you woke up in the first place, but you could feel that something was amiss. You could just feel it. Everything just felt all around wrong. A coldness had enveloped your entire body and was loath to let it go. You were standing in an empty void that had soon transformed into your bedroom a fraction of a second later. Everything was moving in slow motion.

The closet slowly opened to reveal your landlord staring straight at you with the biggest cheshire smile on his face. The grin pulled back his lips and cheeks to the point where every inch of his gums were showing. The sight was one of the more disturbing images you'd ever seen and you'd watched a number of horror films growing up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced out frantically to see John clad in his dark attire, stepping from the shroud of unending shadow of darkness. Why the hell was he standing in your room was unclear. His eyes looked dead almost as if there was nothing in them. You've seen it on his face before but now the look terrified you.

The man's right hand held a scary looking gun that was slowly being lifted in the direction of your landlord's head. Your heart must've dropped in the deepest pits of your stomach.

"John...don't."

The shot was loud enough to the point where your ears were ringing. When you looked at your landlord, you were horrified to find his brains splattered all over the wall. The sight nearly forced bile up from your stomach. It was so grotesque. As much as you hated the guy, he didn't deserve to die like this. Brains blown out in your bedroom.

More scared than you could ever remember being, you turned to John only to find his gun now aimed at you. "John, what are you doing?" His facial expression unchanged. Suddenly a burning pain was felt in your stomach and you looked down to a bloodied hole there.

A glimmer of awareness returned to your eyes as the ceiling came into view. The fact that it never occurred to you that you might be dreaming the whole time was a problem. It was hard to recall when you'd even dozed off in the first place. Your mind being free to wander while you slept was distressing enough. You certainly didn't need any sleep disturbances. This was not your first nightmare brought on by stress and anxiety and it likely wouldn't be the last. The dream was the most unsettling thing you'd experienced in quite a while. The dream itself felt like you'd been in a trance for hours unchecked.

Your eyes darted around the living room - fortunately there was no dead landlord and no pistol wielding John Wick. Everything seemed in order - everything but your mind perhaps. But that was okay because you were still working on getting that together. It was difficult to be able to relax back into sleep as it was. Your heart was beating way too fast, unable to process that your conscious thoughts had morphed into a dream and that you weren't in any immediate danger. After John left, you'd ended up falling asleep on the couch.

After a while most of your dreams would go unremembered. Now that it was morning and some time had passed, you could vaguely recall some aspects of the dream - John shooting you being the main one. With no point in lying to yourself, you couldn't accurately say that your view of him wasn't somewhat distorted. John wouldn't dare point a gun in your direction would he? Relatively speaking...John was not a threat to you - maybe to a selected group of others but certainly not you. Were you afraid of him deep down? It was a dark speculation. All that overthinking you'd done the previous day threatened to make a swift reappearance; you could not allow it to negatively affect your daytime energy or activities. Any energy would be preserved for positive things. If you spent your whole day thinking of him, nothing would ever get done.

Realistically speaking, you couldn't backpedal on how you felt about him based on a dream.

Permitting your unconscious mind to cripple you and prevent you from living your life. It wasn't going to happen. You didn't need this shit right now. What good would it do to be a paranoid shell of your former self? Ultimately, your life was what you made it. If you perceived it to be bad, then it was bad. If you thought of it as good then that's what it was. No in-between. Maybe you just needed a more positive outlook on things.

Bothered some deep part of your psyche and you just couldn't let things play out without overthinking. You would do your best to shield yourself from all things unpleasant.

Today would be a busy day and you couldn't afford to be distracted. A simple phone call to your mother should be enough to soothe your restless mind at least for a while.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Tuesday provided a deceptively chilly morning that would carry on well into the afternoon. The sun was still beaming overhead. There were a variety of people at the station and yet you still felt quite different from everyone. There's people casually strolling around, making light conversation. You were dressed in your best professional clothing with the prettiest pumps from the boutique Alexis worked for. You made her promise not to sell them to any customer before you could buy them. Jasmine helped you pick your outfit out for the occasion after you both bickered like cats and dogs for thirty minutes beforehand. You told her to wait for you in the lobby area since unauthorized guests were not allowed past a certain point.

Glazed donuts and coffee sat on a table for the sole purpose of having people devour them. You could smell the sweet, sugary aroma of food the moment you walked in. And as much as you wanted to call yourself ignoring the temptation, you eventually gave in. Though the taste of the warm pastry didn't make you regret your decision in the slightest. For once it didn't smell better than it tastes.

Your initial excitement was dampened when you spotted your professor speaking with another classmate who was vying for the same potential job opening as you. Laughing obnoxiously in the other's face like something was just so fuckin hilarious that he couldn't pay you the slightest attention. Shit like that really pissed you off. Every interaction with Professor Thomas continued to drift around in your subconscious unwittingly at random times. This man had been stepping on yours for at least a year now with no foreseeable end in sight. Distinguished director of the Journalism board or not, he was not about to continue playing in your face like you weren't deserving of some kind of respect.

With no concern for interrupting, you walked up to the pair, careful to note that the conversation had stopped.

You offered one of your brightest smiles even though he didn't deserve a fraction of your generosity, you still felt it necessary to give. "Professor Thomas."

No smile or greeting was offered in return. A small incline of his head was given before he attempted to engage with the male once more. He was truly one of the most insensitive people you knew. He was one of those people whose behavior was juvenile in a sense that it was almost too hard to prove to others.

That little voice in the back of your mind was getting louder and more restless. Even provided an unprecedented opportunity you were terrible at pretending. If something was bothering you, there would soon be at least one attempt to acknowledge the nuisance at any given time.

That considered, you felt as if he had already made up his mind that your classmate deserved the position over you despite the time and effort you put in your labor. It wasn't the guy's fault so you couldn't blame him. History had shown that white men were often given positions over people of color even if the latter was much more qualified. It was one of the harsh realities of the world - one you weren't prepared to face or accept just yet. Frankly you didn't have the willpower or self-control to just sit and ignore how you were being treated as opposed to your white counterpart. You are not learning to cope with anything that you didn't think was right in the first place. Your tolerance with the old man had long run out. You intended to make your voice heard even if it carried the risk of damaging your grade or ruining your reputation.

"You know what you're doing is really rude right? I greet you and you don't say anything."

The look that appeared on his face was nothing short of taken aback - like he wasn't expecting you to address his behavior.

"I'm sorry...I wasn't aware that I needed to acknowledge your presence." He explained, exacerbating the defensiveness he was always quick to envelope himself in.

"It's just common courtesy. But I'm thinking that maybe you don't know anything about that."

The air was suddenly brimming with mounting tension and the male classmate standing between you two had picked up on it. He began shifting uncomfortably, watching you with nervous eyes.

"Oh I know plenty about it. I was just under the impression that a person could extend that course to whomever they felt worthy enough to receive it."

Right away, you wanted to be surprised but you just couldn't muster up the faux reaction. You knew what to expect from the get-go. Irritation was festering inside of you like a million ants. In that moment, your mother's voice echoed in your mind, "Not everything deserves a reaction, a response or your energy." The statement heavily contradicted how you were feeling. You didn't much give a damn about maintaining any sense of class or poise. You felt disrespected in one of the worst possible ways.

Another person's behavior usually wouldn't affect you like this but this particular professor was just that good at rubbing you the wrong way. You were sick to death of having to deal with his condescending attitude.

"I'm one of your most valued students, top of my class with honors. And you think I'm not deserving of common courtesy? That's really strange to hear since you're the one who selected me as a candidate for this job. Or do you think I don't deserve this either?"

A twinge of pained annoyance started creeping up your spine.

You couldn't articulate how you were feeling only that you're in between breaking down and tearing everything around you apart. There wasn't any gnashing of the teeth, no flipping of chairs and tables - just calm mounting fury. You had about one ounce of serenity left in you before you went ballistic. If Jasmine were allowed into the studio area she'd have already caused a scene the likes of which would really be newsworthy.

"I just feel as though Joseph would be more…"

The words flowed like a bucket of cold water dumped over your head. Having tuned out the rest of the sentence, you merely stared into nothing. You quickly cut him off. "That's not up for you to decide. And for that I'm thankful."

"I'm the one who gives the recommendations young lady. It may as well be my decision."

"Then why am I here? Why select me as a potential candidate if you had no real intention of me getting it? So it wouldn't look like you were showing favoritism and just hand it over to someone else?"

The man wisely said nothing. Knowing if he were to open his mouth he would give himself anyway.

You were beyond offended by the lack of response. Squeezing the small cup of coffee in your hand, you threw it right into his face.

The old bastard's face reddened with anger immediately. "Have you lost your mind!?" He says the words plainly like you were the one being unreasonable. "Did you forget who..."

"I don't care about none of that!" At this point, you were not concerned with catching considerable heat. You had a right to feel the way you do with good reason. He'd never planned to give you the position in the first place; all in account of who he thought should have it. People love to tell you what you aren't.

An awkward silence fell over the studio and you could feel that all eyes were focused in your direction.

"Fuck you! I don't want anything from you. Give the fucking job to Joesph." You stomped out of the room right after.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

"Girl you didn't need that little funky ass job anyway." Alexis claimed. With one phone call, she was at your apartment in a heartbeat, suggesting that all three of you should go back to the station and fight everybody. On one hand, it sounded like a fantastic idea but the rational part of you knew that it would accomplish nothing.

"But I really wanted that little funky ass job though."

It didn't help that you'd been preparing all year to get it either. Perfect go-getter attitude. Tons of work ethic. And your resume was immaculate. There was no way you didn't have it in the bag.

In a way, you kind of helped him achieve his goal. Thanks to your outburst, Joseph was sure to get the position over you. That was a guaranteed fact. On the other hand, you finally gave your shitty professor a peace of your mind. You doubted that an appropriate apology had even crossed his feeble mind. As his pride would be on the line if he did and you knew he valued that above all else. Not that it was surprising, people his age were often set deep in their ways, unwilling to change or accept change. Sooner or later - he would have to reap what he sewed. And you hoped that time came soon.

"You can find another." Jasmine chimed in.

The whole situation still made you irritated beyond belief and you hated being irritated, it was the quickest way to make you cry.

You sagged back against the couch with a heavy exhale drink in hand. Your friends were trying to make you feel better by cracking jokes and dropping little positivity tidbits but it was all in vain. You couldn't even spare a genuine laugh. In life there are no reruns, no do overs. No lie, your twenties are teaching you patience. You could never put up this shit when you were sixteen. Sometimes it was hard to have belief in one's self. You felt as if you were losing yourself with every day that passes. Maybe you just needed a little encouragement. You wanted better for yourself. It was a normal human response, you only concern was what did that better entail? What sacrifices would you have to make in turn? It was hard to comprehend. Working out the logistics of it seemed too hard. You needed to consider being on an episode of Iyanla: Fix My Life.

Albeit still, you couldn't abide by failure and the feelings associated with it. Since you were a child, you hated to fail at anything. What major life changing event were you blocking out that made you this?

Technically speaking, it was natural for a person to go through a depression stage in life. Jasmine had one when her grandmother died and Alexis experienced one after her first heartbreak. Both of them were nearly inconsolable and you had never seen them so upset. Though it was comforting to have people there for you to help you see it through.

Regardless of how you currently felt, everything always ends up working out, sometimes even better than you could ever imagine. Perhaps it wasn't meant for you to get the job anyway. This was a lesson in progress - a lesson of you can't have everything at the moment. What's meant for you will be for you.

Alexis huffed in frustration. "Look girl, I don't know what else to do. We've said and tried everything in the book to make you feel better. At this point, you just gotta give it to God."

Jasmine nodded in support.

"This is probably that sign I've been waiting for." You sighed. "Might need to go shake my ass on a pole."

"Bitch you can't dance."

"They don't know that."

Alexis snorted. "They will when you bust yo ass on that pole."

"Two things for sure one thing for certain. I'm gonna be okay."

"That's what I like to hear. I don't want you crying and moping all damn night."

A lightbulb went off in your brain, this attitude would have to get the fuck on somewhere. And you knew exactly what to do. Nothing was going to stop you from getting lit tonight. The slightest boost of serotonin would work. "Let's go to the Mirage."

"On a Tuesday night? I don't think so. And these are your own words I'm using."

"It's fine! It'll be a celebration."

"Celebration of what though?"

"Just support me in my time of need. That's all I need. Do this for me y'all, I don't ask for much."

Alexis and Jasmine shared a look before shrugging.

"Well at least give us time to get ready. I don't wanna walk in there looking like who did it and what for."

After that, the idea was pretty much a go. Tonight's occasion would be getting drunk in honor of yourself.

When the three of you finally got to the club, shots were ordered and taken straight to the head. Aleix wasted no time filming everything on her phone, saying how proud of you she was. Truthfully, you didn't even think to scold her about capturing video evidence of your descent into alcoholism. Before long you were throwing drinks back like nobody's business. You'd downed drink after drink and that little buzz was starting to make itself known. You welcomed it with open arms. But the alcohol wasn't doing its job good enough. It wasn't pushing back the sadness like you thought it would. Having previously worked as a bartender, you know better than anyone that drinking to escape your problems wouldn't work. Even then you'd listened to quite a few sob stories from various patrons and sometimes the alcohol made it worse.

The female bartender serving you seemed to notice your wretchedness and often gave you sympathetic looks when she thought you weren't paying attention. You hated how she looked at you with such pity - pity that you didn't want right now. You wanted to feel like you were on top of the world.

Jasmine and Alexis were on the dancefloor but you didn't join them. You had no desire to dance, all you wanted to do was drink. Drink to forget today. Sadly, you hadn't eaten anything before you started drinking and that would lead to big problems later on.

By this point, you were definitely a little drunk but not to the point of being totally incoherent - even you knew better to let that happen. Before you left the house, Jasmine had offered you some peach Paul Masson which you vehemently rejected. Just the smell of it would have you vomiting all over the place. The drink had put you in positions that you wouldn't willingly put yourself in even under the threat of death. You thought it was terrible that it was Jasmine's go-to drink for every occasion. And worst of all, it had taken you nearly three days to fully recover from the effects. The experience was hellish. With as many times as it put you on your ass, you would never fuck with it again. Sometime along the road, you'd learned a little trick from some of your heavy drinking family members that involved taking a BC beforehand to avoid a bad hangover.

A guy with one side of his head was shaven and a woman under his arm bumped into you causing the drink in your left hand to spill all over your front. He spared you a look, not even bothering to give an apology. That pissed you off.

"Um excuse you." You sneered, taking the napkins from the holder in an attempt to clean yourself up.

"Oh my bad."

"That's it? That's all you have to say after you bumped into me?"

"It was a fucking accident man...don't…"

"An accident that you still haven't apologized for!"

You were even more offended when he turned his nose up at you and scoffed. The bitch on his arm mirrored the look and you were about 3.5 seconds from beating both of their asses. Suddenly, you noted that there was a white residue under his nose. And that pretty much told you everything you needed to know about this guy. Luckily the bartender had watched the entire exchange and bid the couple to keep it moving or they would be escorted out by the bouncer. Luckily your girls weren't there to witness the incident or you were that they would've jumped him and his bimbo on the spot.

You pinched the skin between your nose. Was everybody working together to try your nerves today? It sure seemed like it. You came here because you thought it might make you feel better, in fact, it had done the complete opposite. You thought you wanted this but now you realized that coming here was a huge mistake. There was only one last resort now. Pulling out your phone you dialed a number.

"Can you come get me?"

xxxxXXXXxxxx

In your wallowing, you'd completely forgotten about John's existence.

You hadn't anticipated that the man would take you back to his house, the location of which you expected to remain ambiguous just like all other aspects of his life. The home was as secluded as a house could possibly be. Mill Meck was generally where all the super rich people took up residence. About an hour's way from Manhattan but seeing as how your lover drove like he was a speed racer the drive was cut down dramatically to about thirty minutes. In all, you were shocked that you hadn't fallen asleep during the drive since you were slumped in the passenger seat with your head against the window the whole time.

The car pulled into the garage slowly and the huge door came back down before John pulled the key from the ignition bathing the space in silence. Knowing you would have trouble getting out, John took the library to help you out of the car and allowed you to use him for support so you wouldn't have to stumble around.

John Wick's house was one of the most beautiful places you'd ever seen. Stunning interior was bathed in natural light that just so happened to blend with the outside exterior. There were huge floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the lake. Some of the walls looked to be made purely of glass. Even the house's decor was tasteful, modern, and surprisingly clean. Usually men who lived alone didn't keep up with their house and were filthy. John's place was absolutely spotless. You could only guess just how expensive this house was on the market. Being a hitman paid well you guess. You wouldn't be surprised if the bat cave was located directly under his house.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't fawning over the place. You just wanted to touch everything in sight.

"The shower is this way." He explained, leading you through his magnificent house.

The bathroom itself was a marvel to look at as well as its glass encased shower. The granite made for an equally gorgeous setup, a setup you were too drunk to memorize all the details of this little slice of heaven. There would be a better chance at remembering in the morning. The water sprayed in calming jets as you stood under it. A noise recaptured your attention and your gaze rotated to see John leaning against the wall watching your every move while you showered.

His gaze leisurely transverses over your wet form, paying extra attention to the soap and water cascading off your skin. You mischievously held his gaze, moving the bathing cloth over an erect nipple. John's eyes followed the movement and you thought he might join you in the shower. Instead you were rather disappointed when he placed a white fabric on the bathroom counter and closed the door behind him. At least he was considerate enough to leave you one of his white button-up shirts on the counter, knowing you had no other clothing to put on. Otherwise you'd be walking around naked.

After you spent some considerable amount of time in the shower, you dressed and wandered around the maze of a house admiring things until sounds drew your attention. You found him in the kitchen standing in front of a counter cleaning what looked to be his coffee pot. An intricate coffee pot but a coffee pot no less. Seeing him do normal tasks was strange.

You took a seat on the counter. "I love your house."

John hums in acknowledgment. Placing the pot back in its place, John turned to face you. His suit jacket was absent, leaving him in a dress shirt with some of the buttons undone and trademark black slacks. The sight painted a picture of suave attractiveness and sensuousness.

Unable to hold your gaze with him for an extended period of time, you simply kept your eyes downcast.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, always so perfectly calm and put together. He must have noticed that you were not acting your normal self tonight. It was the only explanation you could come up with for him to poise the question so casually.

You did feel comfortable talking to him about your problems especially since he minds his business and yours. But you were keeping your most private emotions to your chest. You didn't know if it was right but it feels right. Though inwardly, you owed him so much more than quandary and insecurity. You were full of nagging feelings and unpredictable mood swings. All you craved in life was wisdom, peace, and purpose. And here you were on the verge of an emotional breakdown. You shouldn't feel this fucking miserable.

"No." You responded quietly, staring up at him with big watery eyes. Truthfully, you didn't even know to explain your anguish, it was just one of those days.

John arches an eyebrow at your anomalous exchange, he could obviously hear the emotion in your voice. His brows drew down and it was clear that your despair was something that he didn't like to see but he would not press the issue if you didn't want to talk about it.

Emotions were clasping tightly around your neck. Your chest was so heavy with emotion you feared you might break down over the smallest thing. A direct result of pent-up anxiety which was becoming an all too disturbing pattern. Before you knew it, tears were flowing freely down your cheeks, silent hiccups escaped before you could stop them. You hadn't meant to break down right in front of him but there was no way for you to stop it. In that moment, you surrendered yourself to him - to be judged, to be scrutinized during your moment of vulnerability.

Sometime during your walling, he'd closed the distance between you both and wrapped his arms around your shaking form. It never occurred to you how much of a mess you might look. This was the worst he'd ever seen you. You didn't even have the capacity to pull yourself together. It was too much of an internal struggle for you. Why did you feel so numb? He held you until you drained your tear ducts dry. That was the only reason you were able to stop crying - had it not been for that you'd still be sobbing. The longer he held you the more you could feel any mental anguish being extinguished. Was it possible that their connection was deepening?

Admittedly, you were not much of a rambler while drunk rather more of a constantly dozing off kind of drunk.

In retrospect, you could definitely see it happening. Those visages of emotion between you two were never fleeting. You were still very accepting of the whole situation. From the outside looking in it could quite possibly be seen as wholly outrageous but this was your life and your choice. His presence was always missed and you both expressed yourself in different ways.

You love the way he looks at you. As if you're the only thing that matters in the world. He cultivates a mystique and air of intelligence that's not at all arrogant or problematic. You thought of him as the handsome loner type that had aloof and reserved mannerisms who never strayed too far from his gentlemanly code. Always excluding a monastic grace and discipline that makes him attractive. He was good at silent communication too. John Wick was a destructive masculine force that you couldn't resist. You blamed it on your unnatural attraction to silent emotionally unavailable men. He was otherworldly in those aspects. He had a certain edge about him, being in the murder business and all.

Beneath his cold exterior there resided another side of him. A dark side that came out now and then. You caught a glimpse of it when he emotionlessly struck down his targets. You understood that he had to let it out sometimes. You liked to think he held a soft spot for you on account of his actions.

You spotted quite a few appetizing wine bottles in a nearby cabinet above the stove. Your mouth instantly salivated but you pushed those thoughts down. Aside from that you were still feeling a bit hazy as a result of tonight's liquor still flowing strongly within your system and John probably would start thinking you were an alcoholic. Besides, wine drinking made you extremely horny. Now that the drinking part was done you were looking to get folded like a chair.

Your body was literally crying out for this man's body up against your curves. All the soft kisses and lingering exchange of words put so much in perspective. Sitting in his lap staring into his eyes was one of your favorite places to be. Some part of you likes getting the attention you never received from anyone before him. You craved him, his scent, his mysterious vibe, being in his company.

A hand cupped your face and you leaned slightly into the contact. Like clockwork, your body temperature spiked. It didn't take much to invoke a bout of horniness and have you melting underneath his touches - that was just the effect he had on you. He treated you so tenderly through your sadness. It's a wonder that he was in the profession of killing.

The warmth of his body over yours grew with each passing second. When he pulled back you noticed that his eyes were blackened by lust. Right away, your arms came up to embrace him.

John kissed your nose, then your cheek, causing your heart to flutter. A finger tilted your head up a fraction before his lips finally met yours. He was essentially fucking your mouth with his tongue, swirling his tongue around yours. More turned on than you could ever remember being, you lightly sucked his bottom lip. Your hands moved to pull him out of his pants. For his dick to be as big as it was, you liked to think you took it pretty well. You were exactly sure if he would be okay with you calling on him to come dick you every time a problem arose in life.

He was careful to maneuver your loosely hanging braids from your face.

He hiked the shirt up past your navel and sunk right inside your saturated mount with no effort whatsoever, pussy enveloping him with relish. Splaying agile hands across your chest to fondle your tits while you responded by raking your nails across his surprisingly soft skin. He pressed his forehead against yours as he fell straight into the depths of your suffocating heat. You watched his pectoral muscles flexing through his shirt. There wasn't much wiggle room to move on the counter but that didn't stop you from undulating against him the best you could.

Without a doubt, his counter-top would be left soaked from your activities.

John softly groaned against your open mouth maintaining direct eye contact as he moved effortlessly within your body. Sex with John was fulfilling and not predictable in any sense. His dick spoke life back into you. The strokes were a combination of slow and languid sometimes turning forceful if he felt like you weren't paying attention to the feeling and not everything he was doing to you.

The dim lighting of his spacious bedroom really set the mood. John brought you to the bed with as much grace that could be had while carrying a drunk, half-naked woman, instead of laying you down on its surface, he took a seat right in the middle with you in his lap. The action wasn't expected in the least. Not that it bothered you.

Seizing your waist, John maneuvered you forward with strong arms to bring your lower body to straddle his face. Sitting on a man's face shouldn't feel so intimidating but this particular kind of man made it impossible not to be. Placing most of your weight on your knees, this position was incorporated to focus solely on your pleasure. Not to mention it was extremely sexy.

John flicked his tongue against you vigorously and an abundance of saliva was spread all over as he ate at you sloppily, tongue dipping into the slit. In a thick haze of bliss, you threw your head back, a long whine fell from your parted lips, back arching. At this very moment, this was the best place to be - sitting on his face getting your pussy eaten so disrespectfully. You were certain that all your juices would end up in his beard and that made it even more arousing. John's face was now your favorite seat. He ate at you hungrily like a starving dog, lapping at you in an attempt to quench his thirst. The contract killer even showed much attention to that little pocket of skin between your vulva and anus.

He did everything from parting your folds to circling your clit. And the luscious suction added a new level of stimulation you hadn't thought possible. You didn't realize that you'd started slowly grinding your hips back and forth over his face. It was getting harder to support yourself.

Purring in satisfaction when he gingerly removed the only article of clothing off your body. You were well beyond the point of feeling embarrassed to be naked under his guarded gaze. He positioned you on your side, your left leg coming up unto his shoulder. This intimate position allowed for lots of leverage and you know that he's more than aware of that. It gave you the distinct impression that he liked to watch himself disappear in and out of your body. You didn't crave a tender loving this time - you wanted to be fucked.

Him subsequently seating his pulsing dick deep inside causes a sharp intake of breath to leave you. The feeling so ridiculously amazing that a symphony of moans and wails reverberated in the bedroom. John leaned over you to lick and kiss your back gently while he stroked you out. Your body could help but to quake, your stomach lurching. Eyes rolling back as he hipbones pressed intimately against the curve of your thighs.

He centers you right in the middle of mind-blowing pleasure. The way that this man was making you lose your shit like this was dangerous. Every shitty emotion and depressing thought from today was being fucked out of you. By now you were so past the point of coherent thought, all you could do was feel.

"There. Right there." You moaned out shamelessly. "Ahhh fuck me…"

You felt a momentary pause in his movements, almost like he'd faltered for a second before continuing his ministrations more intensely. He had to be shocked at the amount of obscene words coming from your mouth. Apparently, getting drunk causes filth to come out of your mouth and turns you into a porn-star.

"It feels so good."

Every thrust hit deep like he had a railgun for a dick. The way he rolled his hips on the in-stroke, the sensation left you dizzy. You accidentally dug your nails into his hip and he seemed to move with even more vigor because of it. The change in pace had you writhing - it wasn't exactly fast but it was far from slow. You almost let a declaration of love pass from your lips and you had to bite your bottom lips to stop any further noise from escaping. In the midst of everything, this might drive you crazy.

Sweat started to slick your bodies.

The wanton sounds of you whimpering and panting were loud in the room and you still couldn't conjure up the tiniest bit of embarrassment for it. John must know his dick is spectacular. If not, this would let him know. The man was a demon the way he utilized his manhood to effortlessly rock you into nirvana. He's never made you work for your orgasm, preferring to give you pleasure so long as he received his in the process. An even exchange.

Your legs were shaking and tensing from the mounting pressure, body virtually vibrating with desire. Every single muscle below your belly button was getting worked to the point of exertion. Your thighs felt like you were receiving a rigorous workout. The muscles of your stomach were beginning to cramp horribly.

While you were attempting to get the slightest bit of air into your lungs, your whole world suddenly tipped off its axis. Shockwaves rippled through your body, white light exploding behind your eyes. A natural high you didn't want to come down from. John soon followed after you, a warm gush coating your insides that signed his release. Maybe you were being too careless letting him continuously shoot up your club but that's what birth control was for. Right now, you didn't have the capacity to dwell on it for long.

John carefully removed your leg from his shoulders while he laid his weight on top of you. He didn't pull out, he just laid there.

"Are you okay Milaya?" He asked, unsurprised you find you already asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Milaya: Means 'Darling' In Russian.


	8. Note to Self

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems a little rushed, I had a lot of things happening in the next chapter that I couldn't add to this one. I PROMISE that you guys will love it. That being said, with this chapter I'm doing a little experiment by finally expanding on John's long awaited perspective. A lot of you have been asking and since I feel like always writing from her/your perspective is getting a little stale so I'm willing to indulge. Be sure to tell me what you think about it in the reviews and pull absolutely no punches. Write long ass essays if you want to. My reader's thoughts and opinions are what keeps the story evolving.
> 
> PS: I uploaded a new story called Dark Armored Fate so feel free to check that out.

Initially, John wasn't sure usually what to make of her. The plan was to keep tabs on the woman just in case she reported everything she'd seen to the police. Not that it wouldn't have made any difference, the police and criminal underworld had a long-standing mutual agreement that wasn't coming to an end anytime soon. Now, he lay reflecting on how quickly they'd gone from strangers to sleeping comfortably in the same bed next to one another. He paid attention to her long eyelashes nearly laying against her flustered cheeks while she slept. This was not the first time he'd tucked her in and watched her sleep after a lustful session. She was quite the minx when she wanted to be.

She'd already proved herself to be head-strong, responsible, and surprisingly soft-hearted. There's an assertiveness about her, never afraid to speak her mind or express what she felt. When he first laid eyes on her, she was accosted by targets on his radar. Even with a gun pointed squarely in her face, she faced inevitable death with no visible fear. As a man of strict discipline, he'd witness many men turn into cowards the second a firearm was within view. The second she'd settled her deep brown eyes upon him from her crouched position behind the counter could be classified as a crucial moment in time. He could only stare back as she rose to her feet, his stoic face hiding just how baffled he was at her reaction to the chaos she'd witnessed happening. It dawned on him that perhaps their meeting was not serendipitous - as if fate had purposely set the vents in motion.

John was interrupted in his thoughts for a moment as her warm snuggled closer to him in her sleep.

Additionally, she was inadvertently teaching him to value human connection again, something he thought was unattainable while living the life he did. Not entirely helpless nor incapable of defending herself - always striving toward a greater independence than most women could ever conceptualize having. A woman like her tended to look at the world through an introspective lids, working to understand her actions and emotions as to handle forthcoming situations. He knew, it wasn't hard to gage the worry that crossed her features every now and then. Although now, that anxiety was becoming more prevalent as of late.

In all sincerity, she was a bit of an enigma for him just as much as he knew she felt he was. Not at all conventional in any sense that he knew of or was familiar with. Those who knew of him and had the slightest idea of what he did, of what he was - feared him. And yet, she showed no signs of apprehension having full knowledge of the truth. Even after she felt the need to inquire and he'd felt the need to divulge that truth, she still accepted the reality of it all. He knew it wasn't because of the alcohol swirling in her system that night. His confession essentially exposed her to the underworld hidden beneath the shadows of normal civilian life where the vast majority had no absolutely no knowledge of.

Since he'd unexpectedly come out of retirement, his services were becoming more highly requested. He was leaving 'on business' quite often - not because he wanted to but because it gave him something to do. He was aware of the perilous implications that could arise from her being closely attached to him. On the subject of his work, she could be a liability. A liability that she would ensure stayed out of harm's way as her safely remained the highest priority. Right now, this was a matter of choices and consequences.

The thought of anything happening to her is enough to turn his heart in stone. The business can be cruel and unforgiving - it was all too easy for her to be pulled into the grips of the inescapable world. All it would take is one enemy to find out about her link to him and try to use the information in order to gain an advantage over him. The crime syndicate often didn't allow or have room for loved ones. He fully expected that another ill-fated attempt would be made on her life, it was just a matter of when. After the incident in the club bathroom, he'd had to clear out that entire major organization to ensure there was no one left to continue pursuing her with deadly intent.

For a while, he was lost, set adrift on an endless cycle of death and trying to hold onto the long gone civilian life he tried to maintain after Helen's death. So he preserved on, believing himself to be a cursed man in life as Viggo stated not long before he'd dispatched him.

For quite some time he was merely searching for a reason to live. And now, through peculiar events - he believed that he might've found that reason in her. He found himself fighting harder on jobs just so he can return and find embrace within your arms. With no excuse except that coming back to her felt right although it was much more complex than that. Her presence offered a sense of comfort that he had not been able to find for a long time. He often moved in a blind haste when it came to her. When she called, he came running without hesitation. He still found it strange that this woman had become so much to him in such little time and now he couldn't leave her alone if he wanted to.

Of all his enemies and targets, you were probably the most dangerous to him at the moment. Between business and his seemingly quiet life - she had his full undivided attention. She probably was completely unaware of just how much control she had over him. With her, John lusted like he never did before and he had not been this close to anyone in over a year - that warm wetness between her thighs only sealed their fate together.

He was not an unfeeling man - he felt quite deeply actually. It was not in his nature to offload all of his emotions at once - preferring to to focus on one particular emotion at a time. It was not difficult for him to mask those emotions however. He was good with actions not words. He could show much better than he could tell that was for certain.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

You awoke with a groan, trying to narrow your eyes shut against the sunlight from the enormous floor to ceiling windows of the bedroom. It was strange because you didn't even remember falling asleep though it wouldn't be the first time. You never really had the much strength and stamina after sex so the only thing you could do was sleep. One thing about John - he had no problem giving you that work.

A brief moment of peace soon gave way to the unpleasant memories from the previous day and you wanted to pull the covers over your head and let the bed swallow you whole. You refused to start another day feeling absolutely shitty. Turning over, you notice that John's side of the bed is empty.

You choose to lay in bed for at least thirty more minutes, drifting in and out of sleeping until the door opens and John makes his way into the room fully dressed with one of your pink duffle bags in hand. The sound of nails clicking across the floor momentarily confused you before a black pitbull ran in to excitedly greet you on the bed. It's tail was wagging excitedly as it sniffed you and pressed his nose into your skin.

"Oh. I didn't know you had a dog."

Too bad your mom didn't allow "filthy dogs" in the house while you were growing up. You would've loved to have one.

"Yeah." The bag full of clothes is set on the bed next to you.

"Does he have a name?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Are you feeling better?"

You shook your head. "Not really."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No. Not yet. Maybe later but not right now." You hung your head low, refusing to meet his gaze.

He gave you a look and suddenly you regret your decision. Sadly, he says he'll be back and leaves the room before you can offer an apology.

The dog whimpers at you, as if he can sense the inner turmoil simmering inside you.

Confiding in the man about your problems seemed something people do in most platonic relationships. As far as you knew, you and John's relationship was strictly sexual in nature. It was an issue of not wanting to cross boundaries with him. Technically speaking, you'd already done that when you showed hostility towards another woman for her questionable behavior towards him. It wasn't right for the man to have to deal with your changing spectrum of emotions. The responsibility was yours to handle.

All those times spent pretending to be Tamron Hall in your bedroom mirror were wasted. You just couldn't move past this so easily. Just what the hell were you supposed to tell your parents? That you blew your chances since you didn't have a chance in the first place?

Your father might be quick to understand and accept it but you knew better than to think the same for your mother. She wouldn't go for any of it. You father on the other hand, practically doted on you from the very moment you were born. To him, you were still his little princess who could do no wrong. He'd be down with any decision that made you happy, even if that included cursing out your slightly racist professor and forgoing a job opportunity.

Overall, everything that happened was still a blow to your pride and everything you'd worked for and it couldn't be overlooked so easily. Your displeasure was showing like an unplucked lace and you were resigned to accept things as they were. To be honest, you were tired of charging shit to the game. Your life just needed to do right by you.

You lived in a world where hitmen were prevalent, nothing could possibly surprise you anymore than that. Well, maybe a unicorn that shits rainbows and hundred dollar bills but that was it.

Sifting through the bag, a realization came over you. The bag and the clothes had come from your apartment - meaning that John himself had gone to your apartment to get the items for you. He'd even taken the liberty to put extra clothes in the bag as well, likely for you to have options. The gesture was incredibly thoughtful.

Was he expecting you to stay a few more days? It was likely so.

Rifling through the clothes, you smile at the sight of the shorts which closely resemble a pair of panties. John Wick apparently, very fond of you walking around in booty shorts. That was an interesting tidbit of information to use for later.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

On your phone, there was an email from the Dean of Students that you avoided completely reading. Immediately, you knew it had something to do with yesterday and you didn't wanna rehash the feelings and details anytime soon. Hopefully, it would fade into nothing but you didn't get your hopes up for that assumption.

Worst of all, your noisy mother had already called twice but you purposely let it go to voicemail before ultimately deciding to send her a text saying you call her back. There was no question in your mind that she wanted to know how the interview went but didn't have the heart to tell her just yet. You weren't ready to explain just how much of a dumpster fire it was; how could you tell her that the one thing you were looking forward to for months had ended in complete disaster. There was only so long you could avoid your mother before she found you. She was not a stranger to showing up at your apartment unannounced; in typically concerned black mother fashion.

You were a little delighted that John left you in his house while he was gone. Through your aimless wandering, you discovered that the place was a two floor, three bedroom suite, with three other rooms including a study loft and a huge garage. The residential, private house was wrapped around a nicely crafted courtyard on both sides. Huge windows let in considerable natural light from the outside. With beautiful magnolia and cherry trees encompassed in various places in the yard. Overall, you really liked the aesthetic of the house.

With nothing to do, you took it upon yourself to raid John's impressive kitchen. A kitchen for most, could be considered as the heart of the home. In any circumstance, you admired a lovely kitchen in anyone's house. He's a simple man who avoids overindulgence in life. Foods like rice, pasta, vegetables, and chicken took up residence in his kitchen. No trace of junk food could be found much to your disappointment. His diet was entirely too healthy for you. Like most normal people, you liked to enjoy the occasional cinnamon rolls or Debbie cakes. Balance played a huge part in his life as well. There was a carton of almond milk in the fridge.

"So he's a man of taste." You think.

Since you didn't feel like cooking anything beyond a piece of toast, you opted for a bowl of cereal instead. You sat at the table and read the cereal box while you ate. The atmosphere was really nice - the neutral tones of the place could encourage anyone to want to sip a cup of coffee and read the Sunday paper.

One thing was swirling around your mind though. Privacy was obviously important to John, so of course he lived in a secluded home. Apparently, he felt secure enough not to have a home security system in place on this open ass house. In his defense, the house is a bit out of the way for any prospective robber to find. Or maybe a robber just wasn't stupid enough to pick John's place of residence for a home invasion.

Considering that, most of John's life is still a mystery to you, you were totally unaware of his daytime activities. For the sake of passing time, you watched shows in his impressive entertainment center while you waited till he returned. Since you still had plans to uphold your decision to fall off the face of digital earth for a while. A social media break would do you some good. No more mindless scrolling through your feed. The dog appeared to have developed a fondness for you just that quick and you'd since you didn't know his name, you'd taken to calling him 'sweetface'. The pooch lay snuggled up next to you on the couch, quilling your shot nerves for the moment. It was so sweet. And it had worked for a while until you made the decision to call Jasmine and drone on about your problems over the phone.

"And then he just gave me this look I've never seen before. Jasmine I swear to you, I feel so bad. He probably thinks I'm shutting him out and he doesn't deserve that." You groaned.

You could feel Jasmine rolling her eyes through the phone. "Calm down. Why do you always act like it's the end of the world when shit happens? Seriously, I'm gonna come through this phone and slap the shit outta you, cause you doing a little too much for me right now."

"Well bitch it feels like the end of the world to me!" You shouted, making the dog lift his head from your laps in surprise. You gave him a head rub as an apology.

Jasmine clicked her teeth. "When me and Freddy were together do you know how many I called him out of his name when we argued. I can't even count and we argued over stupid shit all the time. Did all the fighting just to makeup right after."

"That's because ya'll stayed on each other's nerves."

"Exactly. That man knows you're going through something where you tell him what that is or not is irrelevant. He's giving you some space to cool off and sort through it. If you ask me, it's nothing to panic about."

"We're never really fought or had an argument before. I've never raised my voice at him or anything. He's just really chill about everything."

"Believe it or not, there's some men that don't like to argue, especially with women."

"I just wish I hadn't gone to that stupid ass interview anyway."

"Well it's done now, you can't take it back."

"My cousin Esha hit her man upside the head with a glass bottle during an argument and they're still together."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it damn sure didn't. Our situations are totally different."

"I'm just saying."

"He's been gone for about three hours. I don't know where he is."

"You gotta learn to stop blowing things outta proportion. You at home? I'm coming over."

"No, I'm not. Hold on."

You sent a quick text to John asking if it was okay for your friends to come over and to your shock he obliges. You fully expected him to be reluctant about people he didn't know being in his house. Honestly, you still had a hard time believing that he purposely brought you to his home to begin with.

As you expected, the girls go coo-coo for cocoa puffs the minute they step foot into the house. You knew they'd be on goofy shit straight away, that's just who they were.

Once John's dog leapt from the couch and your friends caught sight of them, all hell seemed to break loose. Jasmine immediately takes off running around the living room, screaming like a maniac. Sweetface automatically took that as an invitation to play and happily chased Jasmine around the room.

You started making a bid to Jasmine to reassure her that the dog was friendly. Of course, you didn't expect her to listen in her panicked state. She was too busy moving like a track star, jumping over furniture.

"Girl, stop running! He ain't gon hurt you." Alexis insisted, trying and failing to hold in her cackles. She pulled out her phone and started to video the whole thing all while laughing hysterically.

Meanwhile Jasmine was jumping over couches and tables like a maniac.

"Hey! Don't break that man's stuff. I ain't got no money to replace nothing and you don't either."

"Girl, that's your man now, he'll replace it himself."

"Oop, no..come here sweetface!" You call out to the excited dog while snapping your fingers. Right away, the dog hears you calling and makes his way back over to you, looking up at you with the most innocent eyes. Most canines wouldn't dare listen to a person they just met but luckily this one is very sweet and disciplined. He was pretty much a reflection of his owner. John trained him well.

"Good dog." You acknowledge, rubbing behind his ears.

Alexis watches all this impressed while Jasmine is struggling to catch her breath on a nearby couch. "Does John have a brother, a cousin, a friend or something because damn!"

"Yeah this house is nice." Jasmine mumbled, unable to stop her eyes from shifting around the room and the dog.

"He has to be a drug dealer. This is drug dealer money right here. Where's the bird and monkey? All the big time drug dealers have erotic pets. My bitch bagged a rich man. All those nights blasting City Girls clearly paid off. I bet this rug made outta chinchilla or some shit."

You shook your head at them before leading Sweetface to a separate room so Jas wouldn't kill herself trying to get away from him. Ultimately, you took Alexis' words into account but you couldn't dumb John down to his money, he was more than that whether he had money or not.

Still, you were glad that your friends were here. You desperately needed rationality to clear your conscience. All three of you comfortably sat in the living room for a necessary girl talk.

"So one day we ran into this woman and she acted like her and John had dealings. He said they didn't...you can tell she was really pressed about me being with him."

"She's probably crazy and doesn't wanna leave him alone. It's like that sometimes." Jasmine shrugged, inwardly noting the time she busted out a guy's window because he was downplaying her feelings while entertaining other women.

Alexis shook her head and making the cut throat motion. "Well, I'm sorry but she's gonna have to let that go. My friend fucking with him now and that's her man."

"That woman is not trying to let that old thang go."

"Okay, so where she at? We can go jump the bitch right now." Alexis asked.

"Girl I don't know probably at the circus with that clown ass makeup. And I told y'all to stop calling him my man." You answered.

"I don't understand why you keep denying it?! That's your man point blank. You out here beefing with clown bitches just because she saw yall together."

"That can't be regular dick...it gotta be di`que." Jasmine humorously insinuated.

"Yeah, his dick gotta have your mind gone because you're way smarter than this. And you would've fought the girl on the spot."

"So what! Just because we fuck doesn't mean he trusts me like that. Plus I don't fight over men."

"Oh my fuckin...girl. Listen to me. He left you in his big boujee ass house, with his dog, while he's gone." Alexis stated, ticking off fingers one by one with every example. "He didn't think to kick you out or nothing. What does that add up to?"

"Look...we do what we do and it's just that. Ain't no emotion involved." The words sounded out of place coming out of your mouth since you automatically categorized them as a lie. You and John had already crossed the line of being fuck buddies too many times at this point for it to just be that. "...And I got other shit going on."

"I thought you drank all that sad shit away. That was the whole point of us going out."

"Lex, I'm not Solange. Me feeling some type of way one day won't magically disappear the next day."

"Well, at some point you gotta let the shit go. All it's doing is making you sick."

Sighing sadly, you offer a response, "My whole thing is…"

It wasn't like you weren't trying to let it go. You weren't perfect and you didn't try to be either. For all your pondering, you thought it was better to keep your mind off everything negative. Yesterday was the worst and you should've known that drinking wasn't going to help that. The disappointment was still fresh in your mind however, stabbing your chest with icy jabs. Regardless, you didn't regret throwing that hot coffee into the man's face. He deserved every bit of that and maybe more.

Personally, you hated being out in such a predicament in the first place. Crushing failure in any capacity would take the forefront of her mind but you were eager to shift that mindset as soon as possible.

"Just forget it. I'm not gonna bring it up again."

Jasmine and Alexis looked over at you with knowing eyes and you tried to guess what they were thinking but couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Alexis got up from the couch to mess around with the entertainment center and your brows furrowed.

"What are you doing? Touching stuff."

"We finna dance. You already ruined the mood with your sad shit and I'm tryna get lit in your man's big ass house. Now where the speaker at?"

"It's like 11'oclock in the morning."

"I don't give a damn. Now get y'all asses up. I'm not playin."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

A certain dark-haired assassin walked in to view, an unreadable detachment reflected on his features to find you and your friends dancing in his living room. You were shocked because you didn't hear the front door open or close over the music. Even with the music choice of Sada Baby's 'Whole Lotta Choppa's', the human embodiment of death's traditional stoic expression was in place. You hope your friends were confronted at his demeanor. You knew it was kind of his time to remain uninvolved with most things going on around him - or at least that's the impression he tended to give.

You rushed to cut off the music and your girls looked at you like you were crazy until they spotted the owner of the house. Your cheeks colored with embarrassment. "Um...John. This is Jasmine and Alexis. Say hey y'all." After the statement, you gave them a side eye that read, 'Don't embarrass me further than I already am.'

Both women gave your lover their own personalized greeting.

"Hey John." Alexis confidently saluted, a big goofy smile on her face.

Jasmine gave a polite wave. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

"Hello." John's calm tone replied, offering no explanation of what he'd just walked into.

"I like your house John, my friend likes it too. Y'all should move in together." Alexis playfully mentioned.

"Okay. That's enough. Y'all it's time to go." You said, grabbing their purses and ushering them to get their shoes, shrone over the living room floor.

Alexis pouted. "I don't wanna leave, I wanna live here with y'all."

You were embarrassed enough that you started urging Jasmine and Alexis towards the door while John watched somewhat amused.

"Bye John!" Alexis laughed and you had to push her harder. She needed to get the fuck outta here before all hell broke loose.

"Okay...not him with the immaculate silk press lookin like Andre 3000." Jasmine quietly quipped as she followed closely behind.

"You can get off of him." You laughed. "Imma text y'all later."

"Alright bye bitch." The door was closed and you released a breath afterwards.

Okay. That went well.

When you finally built up the courage to turn around, you watched John carefully maneuver out of his brown leather jacket. Your legs felt like jello as they moved to walk towards him, stopping when you were nearly pressing chest to chest with him. "Um..I want to talk about something with you."

His defined eyebrows went up in a 'blink and you'll miss it moment' but he obliged nonetheless. Having gotten the assurance you wanted, you took a hold of his hand to guide him to sit on the couch with you. Once you take a calming breath and regather all your lost conviction, you lay everything out on the table for him - something you found impossible yesterday. And you left no detail out. Telling him about your prolonged feelings and how you'd been working to avoid confronting them not realizing that it was causing more damage than good.

John's face remained neutral the entire time. He didn't interrupt you from talking, eyes shining with understanding. He's as quiet and impenetrable as a Buddhist monk and he's the only person you were worried about being too forward with. You were starting to feel you were never in your right mind around him.

"...he had me fucked up so I threw some coffee in his face and left." You explained.

As your eyes shifted elsewhere, you failed to notice John trying not to let the ghost of a smile appear on his lips. There were other means to inform you that he was proud of your actions. Though for him, it was surprising to see your confidence waning and that you were virtually unable to come to a head about your emotions. He knew that you were overly passionate about your beliefs and tended to cling to them as tightly as you could.

"It hurt me because I always put 100% into everything I do when it comes to school. And by some twist of fate, everything just went down the drain." Your voice gradually slipped into a low whisper, you had tried hard to stop the tears from clouding your vision but it was no use.

"I've been under so much pressure lately and I just…"

Your voice suddenly breaks and tears spill from your eyes before you could stop them. You thought about just how pathetic and weak in front of an entire assassin. Despite that, in true John Wick-like fashion, one of his hands comes up to wipe the tears away from your face. This was one of the few times that he let his carefully crafted unflappable expression falter. That innocent action makes your breathing pick up, the warmth of his palm nearly making you melt. John induced such warm, fuzzy feelings in you that you couldn't really deny it anymore. You only wanted to exist in his world. You already made the integral choice not to try and escape the directness of his character a long time ago.

Whether he knew it or not, John was giving you a much-needed confidence boost. The man had a way of coaxing you in and any form of touch would have your body lit up like the fourth of July. You craned your head to look up into his handsome face. The smell of his cologne is entirely too comforting for you as you leaned into his chest. Trying not to be mesmerized by him altogether.

"Hey um...I'm really sorry about earlier. I should've told you." Truthfully, you didn't even know what you were apologizing about - you just felt like you owed him one. He wasn't the type to judge you for something so trivial as crying. "It's not like me to act like such a crybaby."

He silently studies your distressed face, brown eyes are intense and refined as they look into yours. "The only way to control your emotions is to show them. It's hard to control sadness if you never express it properly. Falling short of expectations is a part of life."

The words put a great many themes in perspective; the first being that trying to suppress emotions wasn't good. And the second being that confronting them would be your best bet. With anger, you usually can calm yourself down or the emotion will wane on its own. With sadness, there wasn't really much you could do. It was such a debilitating, pointless emotion that often hindered judgement and strayed away from logic. Even worse, the feeling decided when it would go away on its own.

"I will never judge you for crying. It's the natural thing to do in your predicament."

The full baritone of his voice is deeper than the Mariana Trench. You did your best not to let vivid flashbacks from last night take over your wayward subconscious. Heat begins to flood and twist into your stomach. Everything about him left much to be desired. Who would've thought a man like him liked over accessorized black women.

The two of you stared into each other's eye for long moments before the sound of whimpering from the other room drew the attention away. You'd forgotten all about his dog in the midst of everything. On top of that, your phone began buzzing loudly on the nearby table and you knew who it was before you even looked at it. Timing just had a knack for distractions you guessed.


	9. Crossing Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've actually had this chapter done for quite a few days, I just wanted to release it in November. I mostly updated early so I can do my giant load of coursework and enjoy Season 2 of The Mandalorian without anything weighing on my conscience. I'm happy to see that you guys enjoyed John's insight/perspective, I'm thinking that I might start to include it in the story from time to time. John's usually more action-oriented than talkative and lots of his feelings are conveyed through that.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Truthfully, you hadn't expected to be back at your parents house so soon if not at all. Luckily your friends were still in the area admiring other houses and made a U-turn to come get you only to bail on you completely when you told them what you were planning to do. They didn't want to be around when you broke the news to your folks and you could totally understand that.

You couldn't put it off any further. It was better to just go ahead and tell them to get it out of the way. Inform them before your mother started snooping and putting her nose where it didn't belong. She had the detective skills of a seasoned FBI agent when she wanted to find something out. You just couldn't take the risk of her digging too deep into your life and finding out about John at the present time. Things would turn extremely awkward and you were terrible at lying to them. They'd see right through you.

The house smelled like someone had cooked breakfast at some point. Walking past the living room and foyer, you found your mother in the kitchen on the phone with your father, who was gone on a fishing trip with some of his co-coworkers. You took a seat on a chair near the kitchen and quietly watched her straighten up parts of the pantry.

"I've been calling you nonstop." She said, and you instantly knew the question was directed at you.

"I know."

"How did the interview go?"

Inwardly, you sighed. Your mother always wasted absolutely no time getting right to the point.

"It came and went."

"What the hell does that mean? Did you get it?"

"Nope." You whispered.

At this, your mother hurriedly stepped away from the pantry, placing a hand on her hip. "No? And why not?"

"Turns out that the professor had already had it set up for someone else to get it."

"We'll, that's not right."

"He felt like a certain kind of person needed the position."

"And that kind of person would be?"

"Exactly what you think."

Frankly, you expected her to be furious but she's surprisingly calm. It worries you right away.

"I know good and goddamn well -"

"I got an email from the dean this morning. He wants to set up a meeting to discuss the incident."

"Good. Go get my purse from upstairs." She bids to you, and you recognize that determined look in her eyes.

Right before you slide off the seat, you can faintly hear your father speaking to your mother through the phone. "Baby, don't go to that school and clown. You've done enough of that already."

"Oh I won't."

But you knew better.

As you moved to ascend the stairs, a throbbing on the side of your head came out of nowhere, forcing you to freeze for a few moments and wait for the pain to stop. The pain was enough to induce some nausea and it made it extremely difficult to concentrate. You hadn't had a migraine like that for sometime but you definitely remembered what it felt like. You made a mental note to grab some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom because you'd be damned if you dealt with the dizzying sensation all day. You already had enough to deal with as it was.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The receptionists are looking at the both of you nervously, almost as if they can recognize a disgruntled parent ready to raise hell about their child. They'd probably seen and had their fair share of incidents and gotten caught in the crossfire as well. You felt like you were in middle school again. Back then your mother had shown up to your school more than a few times to check teachers she felt had gotten out of line with you. It really used to embarrass you until you realized just how in the wrong the teachers were. Most of your former classmates still bring it up to this day if you happened to run into them on the street.

You didn't blame them for wanting to steer clear of any confrontation. Your mother wasn't anyone to play with. Speaking of which, she was entirely too calm about this and that scared you even more.

After about ten minutes, the receptionist led them in the office. Things really started to set in for you. The weight of what happened and your actions. This was serious.

You could say, "It is what it is" but at this point, what even is it?

The dean in question turned out to be a middle aged black man whom you'd never seen before. He was dressed in a nice, navy suit and wore thick-framed glasses. A picture frame of his family sat on the desk along with a snow globe, a stapler, and a few sheets of paper. The dean's job was to essentially try and be a mediator and find a solution to whatever issue arose with any particular student.

"I want to thank you both for coming here to meet with me to discuss the issue at hand." He acknowledged with a polite, professional tone. Hands folded neatly on the desk.

Your mother, however, wasn't moved in the slightest as she said, "Darnell, how long are you gonna sit there and act like you don't know me?"

You were slightly taken aback by what was unfolding in front of you. Your mother and the dean clearly know each other.

"Wait, you two know each other?"

"Yes, him and I went to school together."

The man held it together for a moment, before he slouched a bit in his head, releasing a sigh of relief. "You know I have to stay professional at work around these white folks."

You sat in the seat dumbfounded as they carried on a normal, friendly conversation while you felt like shitting bricks because of the nervousness concerning your undetermined education status. You're suddenly reminded of how when you were younger at church service, your mother would say it's time to go but start conversing with a person for twenty minutes afterwards. You hated when that happened.

"Mmhh...How's Tonya and the kids. I ain't seen em in I don't know how long."

"At the house running me ragged. The youngest girl is in her senior year in high school, just about ready to leave the nest."

"Are you ready for her to go?"

"Hell yeah. Me and Tonya will be on the first plane to Jamaica the second we drop her off at college."

"Oh I know the feeling."

You gave your mother a look that could be interpreted in many ways to which she ignored.

"I can't stress the importance of reaching an amicable solution in a timely manner. I want you ladies to know that the matter is being taken seriously and it's even been briefed to the President of the University."

"Wait, the President knows?"

He nodded. "He's placed the decision directly in my hands."

"The man, Professor Thomas, why isn't he here right now?"

"He's been removed pending the investigation, unpaid leave of course."

"That's a shame. I would've loved to give him a piece of my mind."

"I'm sure you would. It's crazy to see you haven't changed after all these years."

"What? Just because I've gotten older I'm supposed to turn into some peacemaker? To hell with that, ain't nobody gon mess with my baby's education. Y'all are taking much of her and our money for that matter anyway. In fact, y'all really need your asses whooped for that tuition balance."

The man held up his hands in a defenseless manner. "Look I'm just the dean."

"I'd like to hear your side of the story before any judgement is passed."

"The disputing party wants you expelled from the university but I believe there's a better way to handle the issue entirely."

Your heart leaped in your chest. Expelled? That asshole wanted you to be ejected from the university because of his actions. The nerve.

"He might just press assault charges as well."

"The way I'll have his ass in court on Monday morning. He doesn't want to play those games, trust me. My lawyer has never lost a case."

"I won't let them throw my baby under the bus for some old racist. I don't care how long he's worked here."

"We've received many complaints about him over the years regarding him and his behavior."

So apparently, he'd been up to no good for a while. You weren't surprised in the least, considering how he handled you. You felt relieved that the school was not trying to cover the incident up or make up an excuse for the professor conniving ways like many other institutions would've.

The shit would be funny except it fucking isn't. People like him thought it was okay to be stuck in their simple-minded ways.

"We've spoken to the station and explained the situation. I've spoken to the head of the station and they've agreed to allow you another opportunity next semester - that is, if you still want it."

"Given that all of your classes hinged entirely on the interview, you may take the rest of the semester off and still receive full credit. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience."

"Thank you for your time."

Your mother was sorely pleased with the outcome and in a way you were too. In spite of everything, things always end up working out. Sometimes even better than a person can imagine. It could've been worse and it probably would have been had it not been for your mother. As long as you put forth the time and effort into your future, it was the only thing important. This was cause for a celebration.

You typed a quick text to John, briefly hesitating on whether you wanted to send it or not. "How about I cook dinner at your place for tonight?"

"Sounds perfect."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

As promised, you cook dinner at John's place. Moving around in a t-shirt and shorts he likes so much. You naturally cleaned as you went, not wanting to go through the hassle of washing dishes or wiping the countertops after everything was done. It was one of the many things you'd picked up watching your parents cook over the years. You father preferred to use the grill but you still regarded him as an actual cook. Nobody made better barbecue than him. No one.

John sits patiently at the table, merely observing you rip and run around the kitchen. For as busy as you were, you didn't miss how sometimes his watchful gaze would lower and settle endearingly on your backside. Honestly, you shouldn't be so surprised - these were the shorts that got your ass eaten.

This was a strange predicament, you preparing dinner at his home. It was...domestic. Dangerously domestic. You did not cater to men folks like this and thus this was way out of character for you. Maybe you were just being overdramatic. But the two of you avoided speaking about the implications of what it might mean. This was the most at ease you've felt in nearly two days.

"Me and my mom met with the Dean of Students earlier today."

"And?"

"As for now, he's under investigation and I get to take the rest of the semester off."

"They think he might press charges on me in retaliation but I'm not worried. My mom's lawyer is scary good."

"Come outside. I have something to show you."

You raced to turn the sauce down on the stove to a low simmer before following after John.

On the side of the house there's a shiny black car, an Audi RS 7 from the symbol on the front with a big red bow on top. You'd seen this type of car on a few commercials here and there but to see it in front of you was something different entirely.

"You got a new car?"

"It's not for me."

"Then who's it for?"

You at him and the car nearly several times before you actually caught the gist of what he was implying. Time seemed to slow down at that moment.

"This isn't my car is it?"

"It is." He said it so simple, as if it was nothing.

Your breath caught in your throat. "What?"

Your jaw nearly fell to the ground. He couldn't be fucking serious - he couldn't be. This man did not just gift you with a whole fucking car. A luxury car at that. This wasn't how you were supposed to get a vehicle - there was a savings account for that. A savings account that had only six dollars in it but a savings account no less. At the very least, you'd prefer that he'd given you the money to purchase a car as opposed to him going out and buying it himself. It might not seem like a huge difference but to you it certainly was.

You didn't even know where to start. "Why...how?"

It was hard to vocalize all the thoughts racing in your mind dying to come out of our mind at once. This was totally unexpected.

"Do you like it?" He queried.

"No...I mean...Yes! I don't know...I just. Why would you do this?" You stammered, visibly fluttered.

"You were upset and you needed a car."

You remember the conversation that you'd had with him a few days ago where you'd mentioned solely relying on ours for transportation and the fact that he'd listened and taken the initiative to take care of it without you knowing made all the difference in the world. Now you viewed him in a whole different light because of it. John's duality was astonishing. The man was undoubtedly a ruthless killer and yet could turn into the kindest person in a room depending on the circumstances. Could it be that he was partly motivated because you broke down in front of him? It was feasible. He will literally drown you in affection without you having to ask for it. He was set on creating an environment where you could exist and want for nothing.

The group chat would be in shambles once the girls got a hold of this.

He kindly led you over to take a closer look at the car and you quietly obliged him. The front seats were wrapped in leather and suede with a three spoke steering wheel and stylish center and console. You slowly ran your fingertips over every available surface, utterly fascinated. Everything in the car felt so sleek and new. As a whole, the car was downright perfect.

"I...thank you." You said, looking straight into John's eyes.

John inclines his head, satisfied with your acceptance.

Something then popped in your head as an afterthought. "Hey...um, how much is the car note? I'm not sure if I can keep up on the payments."

"It's already paid for." He answered, already walking back towards the house, while you just sat there in shock, the key fob still in your hand.

The disbelief was just too much to take at this point. They were crossing boundary after boundary.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

You thought you really outdid yourself with the steak and fettuccine alfredo. Having some garlic bread would really set it off but you had to work with what you had. You just really hoped he liked your cooking. Going by what you could see, he seems to enjoy the food on his plate, eating quietly at an even pace. His table manners were exactly what you expected them to be like - disciplined and refined all at once. At first, you worried that he didn't like your cooking. Even if the food was terrible, he probably wouldn't tell you. You shouldn't be dealing with anyone who isn't generous enough to buy you a whole car. You didn't consider yourself a simple woman though, you know what you like and how you like it. How you're treated is much more important than how much you like someone.

The red wine in your glass was sweet and smooth, it reminded you of minute maid juice with the way you were gulping it down glass after glass. You never drink wine with dinner, usually enjoying the alcoholic beverage at parties or get-togethers. The problem was that you were chugging the wine instead of sipping it like you were supposed to. You felt like an excited child whose parents let them stay up an extra hour. John himself, was on his fourth glass and probably had more than a little buzz going on.

The man's voice sounds deeper, more throatier than usual, possibly an effect of the wine. Lord knows, it was certainly having an effect on you. Both of you were decently past tipsy by this point. All you wanted now, was that veined monster in his pants.

When both of you had eaten your fill, you opted for a different approach to get the results you wanted.

"Let's play a game...a drinking game."

John crooks his left eyebrow, seemingly considering the proposal carefully. You let the question hang in the air, waiting to see if he would dignify it with a plausible answer. Serious doubt entered in your mind, the man was a fucking killer, you couldn't even conceptualize him playing any type of game for that matter. You imagined the life of a hired gun didn't much engage irrespectively with juvenile behavior. But still, you hoped for it nonetheless.

"Sure." He finally answers after some lengthy deliberation.

You smiled at that. "Okay. Let's play, 'Never Have I Ever'. Do you know the rules?"

A quiet subtle glint in his eyes confirmed that he probably had no idea what game you were talking about. This was expected.

"I make a statement about something you have or either haven't done. If you've done it, you take a drink, if not you don't take a drink."

Both defined brows went up this time and you suppress a laugh as not to give yourself away. This would be an interesting game - for you at least. John was a no nonsense type of man that would shut down something at the first hint and you don't want to test his patience to the point of aggravation. Although he was not one to show his aggravation outwardly to others.

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the opposite sex."

A shot for both of you.

"Never have I ever had a one night stand."

The two of you shared an additional shot.

"Never have I ever slept nude."

Another shot.

"Never have I ever made out with a complete stranger."

By now, he had to know that the line of questioning was deliberate. He was way too intelligent not to catch unto your little game with questionable intentions.

"Never have I ever slept with someone older than me."

To your surprise, he actually took a shot along with you. Given the fact you were at least ten years younger than him, it wouldn't astonish you that he'd taken up relations with someone older than himself. He was a man after all.

"Never have I ever watched porn."

Yet another shot.

Oh that one was interesting. So he watches porn. That was much more fascinating than you could've thought.

"Never have I ever had phone sex."

This time, John's gaze settled upon you with an accusatory glint in his eyes, slowly lifting the glass of wine to his mouth and downing it in one go while you mirrored his actions.

You were totally cheating as you presented all the questions that were specifically geared towards things you knew for a fact the two of you had engaged in with one other. In laden terms, these were things you knew the both of you had done at some point or the other. He was still willing to indulge you however and he honestly didn't seem like the type to participate in these kinds of games. You knew that he didn't do anything he didn't want to and there was something about him that made you incredibly bold.

Both of you were drinking the maroon liquid too fast and now the tension was so thick in the air that you could practically feel it. It should be recognized that your body always took notice of the contract killer when he was in the immediate vicinity. The liquor had just made it even worse.

"Are you not horny? It's so horny in here." You remarked, fanning yourself with a hand.

John knowingly provided you no rebuttal instead swiveling those intense chestnut orbs on you as you inadvertently give yourself away. His answer was clearly written all over his face however.

His eyes were creating a fire in between the two of you and the arousal you were feeling increased tenfold. His jaw was set and his eyes were narrowed, fiery gaze indecipherable. Beyond everything else, you thought the look was one of the most telling expressions he'd ever given you. After careful consideration, you inched closer to him, hand moving to press against his upper thigh exceedingly near his manhood. His frame immediately goes rigid beneath your touch and your heart hammers loudly against your ribcage at the look he was giving you.

John dwarfed you as he unexpectedly stood elegantly from his chair. The man's hands came up under your armpits and pulled you into a standing position flush against his moderately warm body. He easily lifted you off your feet and carried you over to the living room couch, his mouth passionately latched onto yours. The inside of his mouth tasted exactly like the wine. John comfortably settled you in his lap and you surrendered to the lips, kissing, sucking, and nuzzling at your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips skimmed the sensitive spot on your neck. He pressed his tongue against your racing pulse. John wrapped his arms around your back, keeping you suffocatingly close to his body.

You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your hands over his broad, muscled shoulders. Before long, your lover's hands came down to rub and massage your ass in retaliation. Without further prompting, you took to rocking atop his hardened shaft and rubbing yourself against that hard bulge. His hands switched to caressing the soft skin of your thighs and sliding along them while your hands came up to bury themselves in his soft, raven-colored hair. Fingertips danced across the skin of your back as the oversized shirt you were wearing started to come up inch by tantalizing inch before he brought it up and off your body in a fluid motion.

He admired the alluring sight of your bra covered breasts, palms coming up to hold the delicate flesh. It didn't take much for him to release the small fabric from your chest and let it join your shirt on the floor. Following that, John brought your chest closer to his waiting furnace of a mouth where he quickly latched into your nipple with no hesitation. Your head fell back with a mewl. He started gently tweaking and squeezing your nipples, showering both erect buds with attention. Once his tongue circled around your areola, you felt like your entire world had fallen completely to the background and there was only you and him in this moment that mattered.

The sound of a phone ringing broke the world of bliss you'd fallen into and you felt slight irritation zip up your spine for a second. The device belonged to John as it sat on a small table that held a lamp next to the couch. A glaring reminder that what you wanted was just out of reach. Just. It's owner leaned away from your pillowly cleavage, reaching to answer whoever was calling and you couldn't help but feel neglected in the moment. You quickly trailed you hands around the front of his neck, pulling his face back towards you

John's hand snapped to your neck with lightning speed, starling you into forgoing your desperate actions altogether. The aggressiveness shocked you into silence. His stare held a foreboding glare before he reached out to retrieve the vibrating phone.

John coolly held the device to his ear, not even bothering to speak. As the person on the phone began to speak, John merely held your doe-like stare. You couldn't tell if he was paying attention to what the person on the other end of the phone was saying. Not sure if he even gave a fuck about entertaining them. Whilst the other person was still speaking, John wordlessly ended the call - powering the phone down thereafter. The device was then set aside and you had all of his attention once more. The room temperature seemed to rise afterwards. There will be no more interruptions for the time being.

Oh right.

Lifting yourself off his lap, you lowered unto your knees in front of him working to open his pants and take him out. You marvel at the contours of his dick, holding the weight of it in your hands. Your lips wrapped around the sensitive mushroom tip, kissing it softly before running your tongue over it. In all honesty, you were starting to think that you enjoyed sucking his dick more than he did. You swallow down his shaft, taking him deep in your throat with the eagerness of an experienced slut. This time, you didn't even have the capacity to choke - only focusing on swallowing around the muscle and regulating your breathing through your nose. Under your lashes, you observed John's head falling back against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, obviously in a state of relish. You could plainly see the desire painted across the hitman's rugged features. The sight could only be described as sexy.

You ignored the sudden ache making itself known in your jaw while drooling excessively to accommodate your actions. This was without doubt one of the sloppiest blowjobs you've ever given. A hand held the back of your head, carefully not to pull at your loose braids. You loved that the man was always cautious of touching your hair, usually waiting for your permission to do so first. You wrapped a hand around the base, moving it up and down as you sucked indulgently. Solely focused on stimulating your deadly lover. The taste of salty male essence hitting your coating your tongue. A low groan reverberated from his chest and your pussy clenches involuntarily. This would end up getting you the fuck of your life.

To you, John would always remain a major source of intrigue. The arrangement should be 50/50 - you make him dinner and he eats you out for desert. It felt good to be in the arms of a killer.

Your entire body started to pulse with delight, the throbbing below your navel most prevalent. The wetness in your shorts couldn't be ignored anyway. Soon you're blushing intensely and panting heavily, nearly quivering with lust. The heat invoked by him had your pussy tingling. The wine had you horny as fuck and you wanted him to do something about it. The alcohol makes you bolder and nasier for some reason, presumably from knowing that he'd be inside of you soon.

Your eyes are tear stained, lips burning as you pull back and slip him out of your mouth. A shudder passes through him so quickly that you nearly miss it.

"Good girl." He acknowledges.

You're preening at his words as he headily maneuvers you on the surface of the couch, on your back.

His brown orbs were darkened and focused exclusively on your soaked crotch, concealed by the shorts he was fond of. John leered with a heated expression - like he wanted to devour you on the spot. Fingers danced across the seam of your shorts before dipping in to roll the garment down past your thighs. He breathed in deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent, kissing along your inner thighs forcing slippery excitement to slip out in increasing amounts. His tongue rolled over every crease and crevice of your cunt, drawing out delicious whimpers out of you. You arched off the couch, your lips parting to admit a long moan.

"You taste good." He says quietly, lust deeply attached to the words.

You'd never heard a man say that to you while eating you out. Juices started to seep out of you like a leaky faucet as a result.

He slid his wet muscle between your folds, paying extra attention to your clit, slathering saliva all over the source of your warmth. "It's so wet."

"For you." You breathlessly added. "Can you just...just take your pants off. I want it now please."

You've had enough of all the kissing, touching, and teasing. It was time to get down to business. You were too drunk to deny yourself any further.

Without waiting, you leaned up and reached down to grab his face and slam your lips back unto his. He lets you take over work to quickly remove him from his clothes before the position was soon altered into straddling him for the last time. You angled him upwards and you slowly slid down to accept him with a whine. Hot juices soaked his dick as your inner muscles squeezed tightly around him. John began languidly rolling your hips into his lap after a brief adjustment period, forcing you to take it to the hilt each time. You continuously implied yourself unto his hot pillar of hard flesh. Your lover gave you a penetrating look as you bounced on his lap, inciting a symphony of mewls and moans. John's molten orifice latched onto your right nipple, pulling on it with wet sucks, sending you into a spiraling void of pleasure.

After about thirty seconds, your thighs started burning and you had to take a moment. This was the most exercise you've done all week. It was a shame that you didn't have Megan Thee Stallion's knees, you probably would have maintained the position longer.

Luckily, you're repositioned on your back again, legs splayed in the crook of his arms.

His thrusts were slow but still had an urgency to them. The strokes were slow and measured, the friction felt heavenly. His pubis was rubbing against your cunt deliciously, causing a sensory overload. He intentionally began making circles with his hips, you get lost in a haze of pleasure, the sensation making your body tremble. At this angle, he was aiming right for your sweet spot every time. It dawned on you that Alexis' assumption was right on the mark - your mind was totally gone. You're suddenly jealous of everyone he's ever been with like this but not too jealous since you're the one with his full attention.

The pair had never had slow sex before and you were left wondering why they hadn't done it sooner. Every sensuous movement felt prolonged and intense.

You noticed a light film of sweat started to glisten over his skin. John is gifted in more ways than one. His sex and personality are so bomb you start crying right in the middle of it because you realized you might have to kill someone over him. You'd already made up your mind that if they decided to part ways, he and his new bitch would never know peace if you had anything to do with it. One hand was holding your cheek, while the other held your thigh open.

The most arousing aspect of everything was that John was whispering heated praises against your ear in that familiar language you couldn't decipher all whilst he continued ruining you. You couldn't understand any of his filthy words and yet they lit a fire hotter than hell in your body. The slow pounding tempo made your toes curl painfully, his body unleashing a pleasurable assault on your body. You were feeling it in places that you didn't even know you could.

"Voz'mi eto. YA znayu, chto mozhesh', ya videl, kak ty eto delal ran'she."

"...Ston dlya menya."

He's still murmuring praises to you in that unknown language easing that gorgeous dick in and out of you. His voice is darker and full of depth. You don't know why whispering during sex was so sexy but it was.

"YA nikogda ne ostavlyu tebya, milaya. YA nikogda ne smogu nasytit'sya toboy." He uttered with an almost feral groan.

There was that word again. Whatever it meant, it must be a term of endearment for you.

"Ah fuck!" You breathed.

John's movements paused for a moment, he seemed to regard you before saying, "Watch your mouth." all while looking into your pleasure etched face. The grip of your fluctuating core threatened to unman him - your walls were clenching and unclenching around his dick. He loved this - he was showing you that he truly loved doing this. Acting as if he can't get enough of this - of you.

You were too busy getting the stroke of your life. It was ecstasy of the highest degree and you never wanted to come down. A heavy pressure in your stomach makes itself known. You began to feel the welcome sensation of an approaching orgasm. Every muscle in your body stiffened and your insides started spasming uncontrollably, a myriad of colors exploded behind your eyes, a wave of rapture coursing through your overwrought body. You feel the hot spurts of cum spilling into you as you seize up. Close to a second later, he filled your womb full of hot cum. You felt lifeless, limbs heavier than normal.

It took more than a few moments for both of you to recover. John leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your parted lips, leading to both of you staring longingly into each other's eyes afterwards. His eyes were full of admiration and you were of sound enough mind to know that your eyes were the same. They couldn't put a name to their actions. This was much deeper than either of them knew. Both were satisfying a greater need for each other. Both of you were internally committed to each other on the same scale. They'd inevitably crossed a few lines, especially with the car situation and there was no going back. He knew could sense that your heart, mind, spirit, and intentions were pure. Maybe that's why he was doing all these unexpected things for you like letting you stay in his home and buying you cars.

He had no idea that you were hopelessly in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: Voz'mi eto. YA znayu, chto mozhesh', ya videl, kak ty eto delal ran'she. = "Take it. I know you can, I've seen you do it before."
> 
> Ston dlya menya. = "Moan for me."
> 
> YA nikogda ne ostavlyu tebya, milaya. YA nikogda ne smogu nasytit'sya toboy. = "I'll never leave you milaya. I can't ever get enough of you."


	10. Pick Up Your Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wassap y'all! I'm releasing this chapter exactly one year to the day when I first uploaded this story! I can't believe it's been that long. I'm grateful to everyone who's been following the story closely and showing all kinds of love. I will forever appreciate y'all. That being said, prepare to get in your feelings. We've all been there before.

John was off on business again. In the meantime, you were left to tend to the house and unnamed dog while he was gone. And it fucking blows. Recalling the conversation the both of you had just before he left made you feel incredibly anxious for him to come back.

"There's a job." John plainly stated as he stepped out of the walk in closet in his bedroom with more articles of clothing.

"Again? They don't let you take time off?" You groaned, sliding from your comfortable place in the bed.

He was moving around the bedroom packing clothes and other 'concealed' items into designated suitcases that would eventually be loaded into his car. At the same time, you were following behind him like a lost puppy.

"It doesn't work like that." He answers back, calm and even.

You crossed your arms over your chest, too stubborn to accept just the circumstances. "They can't be paying you that much. What's the offer?"

"One million."

"You know what, maybe you should go."

John's head turns just before you can catch a glimpse of the rare smile that crosses his regularly impassive features. "Maybe I should." The dry sense of humor never ceased to amuse you.

John sees the disappointment painted on your face at having to see him leave. A warm hand reaches out to take a hold of your chin - tilting your face up to his perspicacious view. The eloquence in which he did it is downright scary. His touch is tender and resolute in its intention and your body's natural response is to melt into the solicitous exchange. God, why did he have to do this to you right before he left? It was as if he wanted you to yearn for him while he was gone. The joke is on him because you were planning on doing that anyway.

Intense brown orbs zero in on your plump, pouting lips before he leans down and captures them with a soft embrace. Giving the inside of your mouth one sweep of his tongue before ultimately pulling away. You couldn't control the shiver that went through your body at that precise moment as pleading hazel stared up at him.

The moment is incredibly intimate and strangely reassuring nonetheless.

Days are passing just the same as hours. The man had been gone a little over two weeks with minimal contact. In actuality, the hitman had been gone longer than that before but that still didn't trump the anxiety in your chest. Usually, he'd at least send a text or call. But you were left disappointed when neither came to your phone. You hoped everything was okay.

You suspected that call from the other day had something to do with him taking a job. You wondered how that whole process worked - how the assassin world worked and surmised that it was probably pretty complicated. The life of a professional killer had to be a dangerous and complex profession. Did the assassins get paid upfront? How long had John been in the game? Years? Decades? Was espionage and assassinations like it was in the movies? You highly doubted it. The shit was totally different than a nine-to-five obviously. While you had no desire to stick your nose too far into his business where it didn't belong that didn't stop you from being a little curious. There was little to discuss about your lovers affinity for murder. You knew one thing - he was scary good at what he did. Regardless of how someone lives a certain lifestyle that constantly puts them at the forefront of harm, it's still concerning to others. Like you in this case.

Now you were barely getting by just watching random tv shows on Netflix and scrolling through social media. And both were starting to get old quick. The motivation to be productive was only there sometimes. Though your mind and body were not satisfied doing nothing and the sentiment was inescapable. That feeling of knowing you could be doing something but can't find it in yourself to do so. It was like the world came to a standstill when John wasn't around. Crazy to think about since time tended to swing by when you and him were together.

Grabbing the remote, you turned the television off, unable to pay it any real attention. You love John's house. You love it with everything in you that adores Architectural Digest magazines and house flipping shows on HGTV. But without another soul in the place aside from a dog, it felt empty and desolate. You couldn't be in this big ass house alone for that long.

You didn't have a job and you technically aren't required to attend college for the remainder of the semester. There weren't as many everyday nuisances to keep you distracted. The ending result - you were bored as fuck and you have no entertaining ideas on how to occupy the time. And this was the most free time you'd ever had. You realized that you should've been more appreciative of both.

The lyric, "Ion work jobs, bitch I am a job." had been playing in your brain for days now and you blamed Alexis for planting the seed.

In the midst of all of this, you were trying to come to a head about your realization of being head over heels for the hired gun. You wondered how he would take it if you flat out confessed to him. Truth be told, if you were out of line for feeling this way then he was just out of line for overindulging you to the point of being spoiled. To be in love with a world-class assassin. Who would've thought. How would this even work when the entire relationship hinged on secrecy. Meaning that no one was really supposed to know about them. It was bad enough that Jasmine and Alexis knew about him. At the time, you hadn't considered the drawbacks of telling them about him. Never once had you considered that them having knowledge of his existence might put them in peril. A moment of stupidity was all you could call it.

Their secret relationship was exciting and much more different than anything you've ever experienced. Everyday you were faced with the challenge of keeping the truth of it hidden from others. Though, it's not the two of you are sneaking around or going completely out of your way for people not to find out. The increased familiarity wasn't expected though and it served a specific purpose for the both of you. You didn't decide to tell you friends about John til at least a whole month went by - even then, you were sparse in detail. Eventually, pivoting on the usual relationship dynamic between a twenty-three year old woman and a seasoned hitman.

In spite of everything, you were attached to the man before you even knew his name and maybe that's why everything was so complicated. How would he feel if you told him? Would the man be comfortable with it? He felt comfortable enough not to use any protection and cum inside of you then he should feel comfortable about you confessing your feelings. Both of those were two separate things with very different implications but still...

Love is a complicated thing to both accept and process. This wasn't sheer infatuation you felt, perhaps it was in the beginning but what you felt now definitely could be categorized as something more intense. You already deduced that your feelings for John went far beyond just sexual a long time ago. That would explain the butterflies that fluttered in your belly whenever he looked your way. Your stomach overturning when he spoke to you in that firm but kind voice. The way you couldn't resist his cryptic lure. All the signs were there and they couldn't be missed.

In another vein, Sweetface and you were bonding quite nicely, spending more time together since John was gone. Like his owner, the pit bull placed trust in you fairly quickly and you weren't mad about it. He follows you all around the house while you do normal everyday tasks, rubbing himself against your legs with affection. Almost like your head rubs were the best thing in the world. So far he anticipated playtime the most often incited it by sitting his chew toy at your feet. You'd even taken it upon yourself to go to a pet store and purchase new toys to play with and bows for him to wear around his neck. You feel like a real deep connection was established.

You stood up from the couch and walked down the long corridor, closing all the random slightly ajar doors along the way while the dog followed closely behind. The wind outside was whirling, loud and distinct enough for you to hear it. You're thinking it might rain today. A walkthrough of the house had become normal, since you just couldn't get over how breathtaking it was. Each room was different from the next in design. A small crucifix hung on almost every room of the house. You don't know why you find that interesting but you do. John didn't seem like an overly religious man. There was one room in particular that you didn't dare venture into and that was the basement. Whatever was down there would remain untouched by your hands and unseen by your eyes, particularly since you couldn't build up the courage to descend the stairs to explore.

Being left in the home all alone bored opened the opportunity to explore certain parts of it you hadn't seen yet. Although you admit that you probably shouldn't be invading his privacy like this. You were still grappling with there being another secret world co-existing with the modern world and frankly you didn't really know how to feel about it. Your feelings could be described as slightly concerned but simultaneously vibing. In the back of your mind, you already suspected it after watching the Matrix movies for the first time. Now that you think about it, John strongly resembled the main character. You'd have to tell him about it when he returned.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The days are moving by slowly. You were feeling particularly well the first week; so well that you'd been taking on-call errands for your parents. Given the circumstances, you didn't mind ripping and running around for them for the time being, it's not like you had anything else to do. Today was only Thursday. The moment your car pulled into their driveway, you'd been bombarded with questions of when you'd bought a car and how could you afford one so nice. To add insult to injury, you struggled to come up with a good lie on the spot. Citing the old, "I've been saving up." for good measure. The only problem with that was your mother quickly poking holes in the explanation, saying that you ran through too much money to save past fifty dollars. You were offended until you realized that she was totally right.

Instead, your mother does this thing with her lips and eyebrow that lets you know you're not off the hook just yet. She was far from done when it came to the issue of this new car. It sparked a bit of anxiety in you. While your father is more fascinated by the car to question how it came into your possession. He looks it over while uttering low approving comments about the car's structure. Sadly, you don't know jack-shit about cars so you have nothing to add. There was no way in hell you could tell them who and where it actually came from. Your mother had been urging you to look for a job while your father was just content to have you around their house more.

Having your own car was weird. The audi drove so smooth it was like you were gliding on air. Not only that but you'd already taken to hanging cute little accessories from the rear view mirror. One thing you didn't like was having to spend money on gas though. The shit was too expensive for you.

You'd officially gotten your driver's license in the eleventh grade having passed the written exam with flying colors - it was the actual driving that needed a little improvement. You refused to believe that you were as bad of a driver as people made it out to be. For some reason when it was time to teach you to drive, your mother got into dramatics and acted as if you would wreck every time you got behind the wheel. You couldn't stand being nagged about making a right turn before you used a turn signal. Whilst your father was pretty calm about it. Turns out you absorb more information when you're not being lectured and yelled at.

During set periods throughout the passing days, you return to John's house to feed and let the dog outside to handle his bathroom business. To save yourself the hassle and gas money, you would rather take him with you but without John's express permission that idea was off the table completely. You could not be held responsible if something ended up happening to the dog. You acted like you didn't notice the neighbors son giving you the eyes every time you pulled into your parents driveway. The guy was cute and all but you weren't interested. For as smart as you are, dealing with men wasn't one of your strong suits.

Still, having your own means of transportation felt entirely too good. The group chat burst into flames the moment you let the cat out of the bag. At first, you expressed your apprehension about him getting the car and expected them to sympathize and agree. To your surprise, they did quite the opposite.

"I mean, let's be honest. Y'all have been messing with each other for a good minute now. Plus you've been giving him some spectacular cat. What's wrong with him getting you a car?" - Jasmine.

"I'm with Jasmine. I'm still tryna find the issue here. We all know that you would still be using them feet to get around like a Flintstone without the car so…" - Alexis

"Bitch, I will hit you on the snout with a rolled up piece of newspaper." - You

"I'm just saying! Why are you complaining about him wanting to give you shit? I'd already have three houses in my name with a Ferrari." Alexis.

"A man can't do anything but accessorize me because I come built already and I'm not talking about material things." - You.

"I know that's right!" - Jasmine

"Oh please. I don't care what you say. Everybody likes an even exchange." Alexis

The conversation quickly shifted into another topic. Halloween was closing in fast and your friends had plans of dressing up and going out. Contrary to popular belief, you weren't a party every night type of girl. In addition to that, you feared that your kidney faced the treat of collapsing if you even touched another drink too soon. At the very most, your body needed time to recover from the last alcohol binge.

You found yourself looking for other things to preoccupy your time. There was a new bookstore close to the boutique where Alexis worked that you'd been dying to blow all the money John had given you. You already spent a good chunk of money online shopping. The majority of which went towards SavageXFenty products. The cute lingerie had sat in your saved shopping cart for too long. On top of that, you also purchased some new clothes from FashionNova. Not only that but you bought a few lovely babydoll dresses from the boutique where Alexis worked that you probably wouldn't get to wear until spring.

You spent an inordinate amount of time scrolling through zillow looking at houses you couldn't afford before your scheduled appointment at your regular spa. The owner Kelly, is super sweet and often gave you a discount due to you being one of her regular clients. The shop opened about three years ago. You were used to the smell of lavender and aloe-infused water that it gave you a zen-like mindset. Honestly, you loved all the candles, oils, incense, and cream. You maintained awkward conversation with your wax lady like always. You'd gotten more comfortable speaking over time. It felt weird to talk to someone while they were staring directly on your butthole. Still, you were a sport about it.

Once you left the spa, you drove down the street passing a bookstore along the way. Your gaze lingered way too long before passing by it. Evidenced by the fact that you were a totally bibliophile who loved reading and collecting books. Another book was needed to sit on your nightstand. Your grandmother used to read children's books to you before you could walk; in time, a genuine love for books had developed. Too bad you'd severely fallen off from reading since middle school. Back then, you could read an entire five-hundred page book in nearly a day but now there was no such luck. Life had a way of changing things whether they were good or bad and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The thought of taking down your box braids had been on your mind for a while. You could really do for some long curly bundles. In fact, you bought a wig and some hair from a sketchy looking website Alexis recommended two days ago and now you were waiting eagerly for them to arrive in the mail. The minute you press 'submit payment', you expect your packages at your front door immediately. You put off taking down your hair for a minute mostly because your natural hair should be classified as a sport. You needed your entire day free if you planned to also wash and style it the same day.

Your mother was moving about the kitchen gleefully humming her favorite song and the aroma of food wafting throughout the house had your mouth watering. You briefly entertained the thought of sneaking in the kitchen when the coast was clear. Without a shadow of doubt, your mother would wring your neck if she caught you sneaking before it finished cooking. Better not to make an attempt at all. The tv was showing a marathon of Law and Order: SVU as expected for a Thursday evening. And you didn't have the heart to get up and change the channel, eager to find out who shot a politician in broad daylight.

You laughed at your phone watching a girl from your hometown on Facebook live going off on her baby daddy. It always started the same, "Ion usually do this Facebook shit but…"

The only reason you hung around lounging on your parents living room couch was because you knew that your mother would be cooking today. In all honesty, you craved some mac and cheese and yams bad but you knew you probably wouldn't get that until Thanksgiving. A few of your father's old head friends stopped by the house and they all started playing cards loud as hell on the patio area in the backyard. There was just something about card games and old folks, you would never understand until you started growing your own grey hairs. The patio was right next to the kitchen separated by sliding glass doors. They were obnoxious enough that your mother had to yell at them to be quiet before they made her cake fall in the oven. You'd be lying if you said you were not of sound mind with her, you wanted that cake to remain intact just as much as she did. The first slice of that caramel cake would go to you - your mind was set.

Despite this, John was still on your mind heavy and right now, you felt very much like an expectant housewife waiting for her husband to come home from work. The longer you waited the more anxious you got.

The thought about slipping your headphones in had crossed your mind as few times. Anything would be better than listening to your parents bicker over nothing. You were not in the mood to deal with it. Although watching your parents interact over the years made you realize a couple of important things. The main one being that someone who truly wants you will make you feel wanted.

Jasmine calls out of boredom to tell you that she's skipped out on work for the second day in a row. And you tell her that she needs to take her ass to work before they fire her.

"Eh, I don't really feel like it." She shoots back, sounding exactly like SpongeBob.

"Alright, don't say nothing when they fire yo ass." You laughed.

You stretch out on the living room sofa, shifting the blanket to cover your sock covered toes. This has been your favored place at there house, eating all of their snacks from the kitchen.

Cleaning is actually therapeutic when you're not forced to do it. You remember all those mornings where your mother blasted church music and woke you up to help her clean the house on Saturdays.

"They can't fire me. They don't even have enough people in this hospital as it is. I put in too much overtime anyway."

A laugh can't even manifest before your head started pounding again and you were quick to end the call and run to the bathroom for medicine. Instead of the headache relief, you chose one two tablets packed with acetaminophen and antihistamine. Deciding that a nap would do you some good. After it resurfaced a couple of more times, you made a doctor's appointment to get it checked out. It was nearly time for your three month checkup anyway.

Practically collapsing on the bed in your old room, you wrap yourself into the comforter and drift off. When you wake up you discover that it's still light outside - that's a little disappointing that the medicine didn't actually do its job and keep you asleep longer. The first thing on your refreshed mind was going into the kitchen and fixing a plate of food that you knew for a fact had to be done by now. You retrieve your phone and discover that there's still no messages from your lover and the feeling or letdown is immediate. You muster up the energy to leave the comfort of your old bed and slip on your shoes. Grabbing your keys off the dresser, descending the stairs and out the front door quietly.

Where the idea came from, you didn't exactly know but it would sate your curiosity at the very least. Though in reality, the group had done some pop-ups before for Alexis and Jasmine. But never once for you. Mostly, because you thought you would never care enough about a man to want to pop-up unannounced to see where he was or catch him in the act of possibly doing something he wasn't supposed to. You were loose as a goose the night John brought you to the hotel so it was kind of hard to remember how to get there. Your memory was a little foggy in regards to that night.

A dusky skyline was settling over New York's metropolitan area. In truth, you had no business driving across the bridge for this shit. What were you trying to accomplish coming here? You were better than this. Much better. The thought continuously swirled around in your mind as you gripped the steering wheel. And yet...you felt compelled to do it. You needed some reassurance and answers; the hotel was the only place you thought he could be.

The hotel was located in lower Manhattan. Parking directly in front of the hotel would be too obvious, so you settled on a spot a little ways down the street where you could still view the front entrance without being seen. For nearly thirty minutes, you watched finely dressed people enter and exit the establishment. Either arriving or leaving in fantastic cars that showed just how deep their pocket truly was. This confirmed your earlier suspicions was the regular clientele that frequented the place.

Your intuition was always right on the mark, what made tonight any different? Owing to that fact, together or not - you were going to do some checking around. Would John consider this violation of his trust? Probably. But you couldn't find it in yourself to care right now.

A dark speck came into your peripheral and you looked up to see John calmly descending the stairs with bags over his broad shoulders. The valet already had his mustang pulled up front and he moved to start loading the bags into his trunk. Your heart beat loudly in your chest cavity. The man was the raw essence of subtle danger wrapped in a polished suit, looking devastatingly handsome as usual. You barely had time to wonder about how many stylish tailored suits he owned until something peculiar caught your eye.

Serendipitously, a buoyant looking Perkins was just behind him carrying her own luggage. That instantly made you pause. This made you sit up in the driver's seat. She was wearing dark sunglasses but you could tell it was her.

"...this bitch." You muttered.

This woman - this bitch had received all your allotted ire from the first meeting. Perkins stood close to John, a look of exaltation in her eyes that disgusted you the moment you noticed it. The sight of her rubbed you the wrong way along with that raggedy ass black fur across her shoulders. Reigning yourself in was already proving to be a hard endeavor. For all you know, the encounter could be completely innocent but going by the women's mannerism and facial expressions enough doubt was present. While the corners of her mouth were turned upward, John's usual deadpan countenance was squarely in place and that gave you some hope.

You might be tripping but you were pre-tee fucking sure that you'd expressed to John how much you didn't like the woman. That alone should've been enough for him but to have any contact with her. As John spoke, she nodded in agreement and jealousy burned hotly in your chest. Growing agitation furled in your stomach. So they did have history together. The truth lies bare and ugly - still it wasn't all that easy to process. Just what the fuck were they talking about? You couldn't hear the conversation - only able to perceive visual cues and make assumptions from there.

Call it what you want but you knew in your heart that you weren't overreacting in the slightest. Their interaction just didn't look right and you were trying to stay calm but it didn't seem to be working. There's a difference in being friendly and being flirty. They were standing to close together for one and that was classified as overly friendly in your book. The exchange shouldn't be happening in the first place. You were nearly at your wits end when she leaned close in and whispered something into his ear. Your hand gripped the steering wheel until it hurt, fighting the urge to press on the gas and run them both over. But that little voice in your head decided that reacting impulsively would be the wrong course of action. Doing that would lead to far worse consequences on both ends down the line and you couldn't afford that. What you did next depended on you entirely.

To see the pair conversing together, talking so friendly incited something in you. Something that you'd never felt before. The feeling was coming over you in devastating waves. You wouldn't have all this tension towards her if she wasn't such a bitch to you first the two of you met. Like the irrational traitor it was, your mind started throwing out scenarios left and right. Was she the person on the other end of the phone that night? Was that the reason why he didn't say a word before he hung up and turned the phone off completely. At the very least, you were prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt only for that to go out the window seconds later. Potential good never lasts long.

Unfortunately, acute sadness was quick to overcome the anger. The betrayal. The lies. The audacity.

Your heart constricted painfully in your chest at the sight, the swift heartbreak could be felt deep in the pits of your stomach. The dull ache that took your breath away the moment it became known. You needed to get out of here before you were seen. He couldn't know that you were here watching.

If your destination was John's house then he'd probably beat you there knowing how he drove. But you would be a damn fool if you went back to that house after what you just witnessed. It wasn't possible. Right now, you were thinking of pulling an Angela Bassett and going back to set fire to his house altogether but you liked the house too fucking much. Instead, you did the dash back to your parents house, moving in a kind of blind stupor.

Note to You by Mariah The Scientist played at low volume through the radio.

Why you never call me? Fuck it.

Please don't ever call me.

You left me for a bitch in the city of the palm trees.

I never knew that it would haunt me.

How am I your favorite girl in the world, but you fronted on me soon as you knew I was recording.

You know I used to love you. Maybe I still do, but I put you in my rearview.

Cuz I could never trust you.

That's fundamental, but baby that's what fear do to you.

I hope it was worth it.

The lyrics made your chest ache even worse.

Should you even be in your feelings right now? The answer was an easy hell yeah.

Your heart was fully invested into whatever the both of you had going. Just two weeks after acknowledging your feelings for the man and now they were hurt. When your life started to become idyllic, a monkey wrench was quickly thrown into the equation and messed everything up. Maybe this was the universe telling you to calm the fuck down. Well, now the universe didn't have to worry about you making the same mistake twice. Every time you think about it, your heart squeezed tightly. You had to look at it from a logical perspective. Both of you were not exclusive; meaning you both were free to do whatever. Considering that you were just at his house cooking dinner not long ago, the nature of that closeness could be called into question.

You don't even hear the car door shut. Don't even register yourself going back up the stairs. It wasn't until you slid back into the bed that your focus fully returned. The ceiling looked like it was further away than it actually was but it couldn't provide you a distraction from your overthinking state of mind.

You couldn't run the risk of losing yourself each time something went wrong in your life. That's why it was so important to train your mind to be stronger than your emotions. Though trying to act like you weren't phased didn't make it any less excruciating. Catching your lover outside of a hotel with someone else was bound to hurt.

You hate feeling like this. You wish you didn't care. What was all of that before then? The affection. The sweet foreign nothings he whispered in your ear during intimacy. Might it be possible that your feelings were one-sided this entire time? Suddenly, you feel the urge to laugh hysterically but you don't.

Reality sets in. The disillusionment was starting to wear off and now you were becoming more critical. John had never given you reason to doubt him but after what you witnessed, you were starting to question things. Rather than ask him about it, you made the choice to evade him. It was the natural thing to do. When you got upset or angry - disappearing was your way of handling the issue. There wasn't shit that needed to be discussed.

Your mind was in two different places. Now you wished you hadn't taken that medicine and slept part of the day away because now you'd lie awake. Thinking. Aching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know how y'all are feeling right now and I give you full permission to eat me up in the reviews but I had to do this. Shit is about to get very messy - like y'all even understand. I already have Chapters 11 and 12 mapped out. That's how crazy it is, just bear with me.


	11. Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I absolutely liveeee for y'all's comments lmao. I just love how invested y'all are in this and it makes me feel confident about my writing. I'm still trying to decide what timeline on which this fic occurs or if it's on an alternate one. In addition, I'm going to start making the chapters longer just like this one, y'all deserve it.

The multicolored painting within the waiting room of the doctor office waiting room holds your attention for an inordinate amount of the time like it does every time you visit. Sitting in the room was sometimes stressful for a lot of people but not you. You're used to looking at padded chairs and large windows letting in daylight as well as the small TV mounted on the wall in the corner playing a rerun of Judge Judy at low volume. You didn't expect to wait long since you'd made an appointment in advance. To your relief, the office isn't too busy seeing that you're the only person in the waiting room. You didn't start making your own doctor's appointments until you were about twenty, having relied on your mother from such adult responsibilities.

As your eyes briefly roamed over an issue of Better Homes and Gardens, you wondered if the excruciating pain in your temple is enough to raise concerns on your end. They're definitely out of the ordinary for you. Still you wanted to get checked out, seeing as you were the type to google your symptoms and think you were dying. One time you were thirteen, you swore up and down that you'd had breast cancer because a certain part of your underarm felt too hard. Unquestionably, one of the most embarrassing times in your life that you hated to think about but that didn't stop you from doing it nonetheless. What can you say - you're dramatic like that. You didn't think the headaches were too serious but it didn't hurt to get them checked out.

Your anxiety is off the charts lately and you're not sure how to navigate around it this time. Between no school, no job, and the situation with a stone-faced hitman whom you hadn't seen - you were due for a stress overload pretty soon. Being this out of sorts for a man whom you did not have a commitment with was ludicrous. It didn't make sense. In the wake of the incident, you took the time to focus on yourself more and not put too much thought into anyone else but yourself but it's easier said than done. Was it possible that you could be entitled to compensation for this shit?

With all the moping you'd been doing, you're surprised your mother hadn't asked what was wrong. This morning, you could tell that she surely wanted to with her robe on and coffee mug in hand over the breakfast table. She's usually tuned into your moods enough to know if something was wrong. But to your surprise, she said nothing and you can't explain how relieved you felt about that. Unfortunately, you won't get the reassurance you truly want at this point in time and who knows how long it'll be till then.

The door by the front desk opens to admit a short, middle aged black woman in scrubs. Her name is Ms. Joyce and she wore her signature polite smile you'd come to be familiar with.

"Come on back baby." She urged.

You'd been coming to this doctor's office since you were a teenager and was well-acquainted with all the other staff. Most of which consisted of older black women that knew or went to school with your parents. The air of comfortability around them was unparalleled and true bonds with the women had been established over the years. They treated you like their own and you honestly loved the feeling. Older black women just had that hospitable warmness about them. And it is for this reason that they often didn't worry about maintaining an uncomfortable level of professionalism with you.

You gave her a shy smile in return. "Yes ma'am."

"How's your mama doing?"

"Oh she's doing good." You admitted.

She turned her head to look at you while you both walked down the long hallway, passing many rooms along the way. "And your daddy? He still firing up that grill?"

"Yes ma'am. Seems like every day." You nodded.

The woman let out a hearty laugh. "I knew he was. Tell him that me and James want a pulled pork sandwich and some ribs. We gon come by and get some."

"Okay. I'll let him know."

Ms Joyce led you to an examination room you'd been in before and you took a seat on the bedding. "Alright now, Ms. Stella will be in here to see you in just a moment."

"Okay." You muttered as she shut the door softly behind her, lapsing the brightly-lit room in silence. You resisted the urge to rifle through the cabinets, the fear of getting caught doing so kept you sitting stiffly on the exam bed. The wax paper you're sitting on made too much sound even with minimal movement, so you chose to keep still and scroll through your phone and shoot a few messages to the group chat.

A solid five minutes pass until the doctor comes scrolling in cheerfully. "Hey there my girl! I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. What made you come see me so early?"

You sighed, slouching a bit from your stiff position. "I've been having these terrible headaches that just show up randomly. And they're just so bad. I've been taking some over the counter medicine like ibuprofen to curb it but it doesn't really do much."

"Are they like a really bad headache or a migraine?"

"A migraine." You answered.

She scribbled down some notes on a clipboard. "I see."

"And these headaches aren't normal for you?"

"No not really."

The woman nodded, a small strand of hair falling out of her neat bun. "I see. And how often do you keep up with them?"

"All the time. They show up probably every other day."

"Do they make you feel nauseated? Weak?"

You nodded.

"Alrighty then...let's see what the problem is."

They went through the normal series of tests - blood pressure and heart rate examinations. You sat calmly through every one. "I don't think we need to do any blood work. In fact, I think I know exactly what the problem is-"

Sitting up straighter, you let her know that she had your full attention.

"Have you experienced any life changes? Under any pressure lately?" She delves.

You took a moment to consider her words. "Yeah, I would say I have."

"As I thought. Based on the pattern I'd say it's a cluster migraine. You might be straining yourself too much. I've seen this in other patients as well."

"I'm still going to prescribe you some medication but my advice would be to relax."

"If it worsens be sure to give me a call."

"Okay."

"And another thing, looking at your chart I noticed that your implant expires in about six days. Do you want to reschedule another appointment to have it removed and another re-implanted? Or..."

Your face lit up with subtle embarrassment. "Yes ma'am."

She chuckled and scribbled down some more writing on a chart. "Alright which day works for you?"

"Um...I can come in any day." You uttered.

"Okay, I'll pencil you down for Tuesday at eleven. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good."

Alright, here's your prescription." She holds you a small paper. "You're free to go sweetheart...and tell your folks I said hey."

You slid off the bed, took the paper and shook her hand. "I will. Thank you."

"You're welcome. See you next week."

You left the office feeling slightly better than when you arrived. Your prescription would be ready in about an hour so you'd linger in the area around the local pharmacy. Waiting out the duration in your car wouldn't be a problem so long as you passed the time by looking in your phone. Checking your email you came across a message from the Dean - apparently, Professor Thomas was relieved from his position following the investigation. Smiling, you could find some satisfaction in knowing that he wouldn't get away with his dealings. It's what he deserved.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

"Should I get the enchilada or the quesadilla?" Jasmine asked as she canvased the large menu.

"Get whichever you have a taste for. I got my heart set on tamales." Alexis declares.

Everyone is sitting at the table going over the food selection on the menus.

"The hell is a pambazos?" You asked, brows furrowed at the menu. "You know what. I'll just settle on a taco and some yellow rice. I don't know what's going on with this menu." You don't really eat much Mexican food unless it's from a food truck. They make the best food for some reason.

The high pitch rhythm of Mexican music up ahead had you moving your shoulders to the beat as you looked around the place. Tre suggested they come to the restaurant seeing as it was one of his favorite places to eat. Regardless, you wouldn't skip out on the chance to go out with friends. Even as you try to immerse yourself into your surroundings, your mind feels as if it's everywhere but in the present.

"Tre what you getting?"

"Hold on, I'm looking at the drinks." He replied, flipping through the small beverage menu provided on the table.

"I know your bladder is screaming for some water."

Tre and Alexis had too many damn friends that kept them in the loop about most things. If anything important was going on in the city, there are among the first to know about it. Jasmine liked to call them messy bitches though.

"Girl stop playing with me. My bladder and yours is on the same shit. We both alcoholics."

"You could've never thought!" Alexis says as she picks up her phone. After a brief look, she rolls her eyes, sucks her teeth, and places the phone facedown on the table.

"Girl you know you wanna talk to that man." Jasmine chides.

"Talk to who? Pj?" You enquire, leaning in to be nosey.

"Yeah they into it right now. Lex calls herself not talking to him but I know she's sneaking a text every now and then."

Alexis gives her a look. "Ain't."

You and Tre look at each other with a knowing expression. "What happened?"

"Okay look...this is what happened." The woman waves a hand in the air. "So the day we met at yo man's house -"

Jumping slightly in your seat, you turned a disapproving look to your friend. "That's not my man. I'm tired of telling yo ass this."

"Girl be quiet. We don't wanna hear that. So anyway -"

"Oh so y'all went to the house. Hell I wanna go too!" Tre claims, really offended.

"They weren't even supposed to come!"

"Girl fuck you. You invited us." Jasmine vocalizes.

"Be quiet. Let me finish telling the story!" Alexis shrieks and the table drops into silence once more so she can continue telling her dramatic recollection. "Anyway...that night he came to my apartment. Keep in mind that I haven't seen this man all day and we barely even texted. He comes in, gets in the shower and leaves his phone on the nightstand. So with me knowing the passcode, I just decided to look in the phone - you know scroll down his feed and all that. A picture of his ex pops up, that's not surprising since I already know they were still friends on social media or whatever so I really didn't bother me."

"I can't believe that." You say. "I thought you might've skinned them both alive."

"I'm working on myself. That's nothing but growth."

"Gotta be."

"Shittt Cassandra would've told me to block all my old hoes." Tre mentions.

"As she should. You know you're a whore."

"Jas! Now Tre ain't no hoe, I don't believe that." You say.

Tre's brows come up and a goofy smile finds his face. "Girl I been a hoe since 2012. The only thing that's changed is that I'm a retired hoe now."

"How are you retired?"

"I mean I'm still slinging peen, I just sling it on Cassandra."

"I respect you for that friend." Alexis encourages.

You shook your head at his admission. Your friends are full-on characters.

"Now back to what I was saying. I didn't really trip over that, like as long as nothing was still going on between them I would tolerate it. Fast forward to three days later. We're on the couch, laid up watching tv. I'm laying on him, he's on his phone. Now I wasn't really paying attention to him on his phone like I usually do. He goes to the search bar and I see her name there like he typed it in. At this point, I'm feeling some type of way. I'm like why is her name in your search bar? Then he was trying hard to blow it off as nothing but I'm like clearly it is something. Long story short, we fought and I put his ass out my house."

"Why you always trying to fight that man? Now when he beat yo ass…"

"Domestic violence." Jasmine laughs, sounding eerily like Yung Miami.

"He do too much. Men folk annoy me. If he thinks I'm stupid then he can think again. Cause a bitch like me will go knock on her door and ask."

"When you do go, let me know I wanna come." Jasmine says.

"Me too."

You laugh because there's no way you can't with friends like these. Once the food and drinks come out everyone settles into chatting and eating.

"Jasmine what's up with you?"

"Nothing. I don't have a man and I don't want one."

"Terrance still must be in the picture."

"You know he is."

"Okay imma need y'all to not, we haven't spoken in two months. It's over."

"That's what you say…"

The waiter comes to take orders and collect menus and the conversation shifts over onto someone else.

"And what about you sugar baby? I haven't forgotten about you."

Pointedly ignoring the sugar baby comment that would open a can of worms, you smiled and kept your attention elsewhere. "I'm good." You replied, sitting stiffly.

"I know you good, rolling around in that nice ass car."

"It's alright." You were trying to minimize conversation as much as possible to steer the attention from you. John wasn't a topic you wanted to think about or discuss. Showing them how miserable you'd been would serve no purpose - it was better than agonizing over the unknown and things you can't change or have little to no control over. When you could, you tried not to tell your friends about the blows men dealt you because when you eventually forgive the men, your friends typically don't and that leads to a horde of other problems.

"You going to the mall with us after this?" Tre wonders.

"I can't. I paid my mama to help me take down my braids today."

After that exchange, there wasn't much energy to prattle along with them, so you listened for the rest of the outing.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

One of Tyler Perry's nineteen movies about a black woman going through it was playing on the tv and you ignored it as best as you could in your position. You're sitting on the living room floor between your mother's legs as he helps you cut and take down your box braids and you feel like your eight again. Frankly, you could've taken them down by yourself but it would've taken you much longer and you aren't on that kind of time. Your hair is due to come in the mail in a day or two and you couldn't be more eager. That hair better be good quality or you are kicking Alexis' ass.

Three days have passed and the two of you still haven't had any contact - it's tough because you knew in your gut that he was home. For you, it was a mystery why he hadn't felt the need to reach out. Surely you aren't that childish, knowing full well that remaining in contact worked aa a two-way street. Just as he could pick up the phone, you could as well and it was only sheer stubbornness on your part that prevented that. You definitely weren't stewing in your feelings as much but you still weren't over it either. Now you were in this weird headspace of not wanting him to call and desperately needing him to. To be put in a position like this is concerning enough; it made you feel weak. The lack of response from him was really getting to you but your pride wouldn't let up. Had it not been for that, you would probably be at his house right now.

Dropping by under the pretense of checking up on his dog but nearly four days have passed since you'd seen him leaving the hotel. So that excuse wouldn't work. Although you still had a bag of clothes and possessions at his place that you desperately wanted to retrieve. That was cause for you to make an appearance right? The fact that you were thinking like you were said something. You can't deny that this man had you doing a 180 in terms of characteristic behavior, actions, and feelings. It took you a while to stop prolonging the feeling by replaying the scenario in your mind.

Though it's not logical to go by hypotheticals and assumptions you needed a second opinion; some clarification before you lose it. And you had to be realistic if you wanted answers. You hesitated, silently wondering if you really wanted to poise the hypothetical situation that's exclusively reminiscent of your situation to your intuitive mother and possibly risk exposing yourself in the process. This could probably give you some guidance or this could be the worst decision you ever made.

"Ma...can I ask your opinion on something?"

"Mmhm." She answers.

"I have this friend and she's been seeing this guy for a little bit. They're not in a relationship or anything but she really really likes him. Recently, she saw him leaving a hotel with one of his colleagues."

"A colleague?"

"Yeah, she works with him I guess."

"And this friend...who is she?" She's too nosey for her own good.

"You don't know her."

"Uh huh" She's clearly skeptical but she doesn't question you on it any further. "Okay, go on."

You start up again without interruption. "According to my friend, they looked mighty closer than actual colleagues. Now I have to note that the friend has asked him about the woman before."

"And what did he say?"

"He said that there was nothing going on."

She grabs a new braid and cuts the end. "It could be a misunderstanding."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What makes you say that?"

"Just hear me out before you say anything."

Her words grated on your ragged nerves but you were listening attentively to everything she had to say especially since you specifically asked. "Okay."

"Let me start by saying this...your friend is completely in the wrong. Not only is she wrong, but she might be jumping the gun a little too soon. The main reason being that they're not together, meaning that she can't get mad at him for potentially being with other women. That's his right as a single man. If he wants to go out and see others he can. Now with the feelings situation, I'd advise that she tell him how she feels. And if he doesn't feel the same then she should move on to someone else. It might be disappointing but it's the best course of action."

You considered your words carefully though none of it made you feel any better. She was absolutely right. And though you were loath to admit it, you had been going about this in the wrong way from the very beginning.

"But her and the guy are really close. Aren't her feelings justified?"

"They are. But they're not an item therefore those kinds of feelings are null and void until the relationship changes. It's also possible that this friend is still in denial about being wrong since they came too much about being right. Usually when we get to that stage, we'd rather die than admit that we were wrong all along. Plus, what she saw and what was taking place might be two different things. I wouldn't tell you something I didn't think was right. Tell your friend she has to get over herself."

You don't even know at this point.

"Now all of this is just my opinion. Remember you asked for it." Your mother insisted.

Nodding in understanding, you lapse into an uncomfortable silence, the low drone of the tv and sniping of scissors is all that you can hear over alongside your thoughts.

So evidently you're in the wrong? The notion is entirely plausible given the context. You went searching for trouble and found it. Just goes to show that when you go looking for something you shouldn't. You'll eventually find it and more. The more in his case being something you're not equipped to handle. You hadn't expected to find what you did. Even now, it's hard as fuck to ignore the sting of pain in your chest every time you thought back to that night three days ago. And him not contacting you was the icing on the cake.

You didn't generally give men the opportunity to disappoint you and you hate having to question his intentions with you. Your brain had a hard time processing things you didn't understand - that's the real issue.

"Alright I'm done." Your mother announces with a tried sigh and you slowly stand. "Pay me my money and go home. I'm tired of you eating up all our food. You got food at your apartment."

"Imma tell daddy you kicked me out the house."

"What yo daddy gon do to me?"

Your head feels less heavy, not being weighed down by bundles of hair and when you scratch your scalp it feels like heaven. Almost like when you stick a Q-tip in your ear. The long part is done now it's time for the wash. You gather a bag filled with all of your hair products - shampoo, conditioner, oils, and leave-in conditioner before venturing to the upstairs bathroom. Stepping foot outside of the house with a great big mess on top of your head is not the move. After a good washing, you'd be on your merry little way.

While you fall into the familiar routine of washing and rinsing your hair, gears are turning in your head the whole time. Things have been difficult for you - not seeing him knowing you feel like you feel. Another day cannot pass by like this. This has been gnawing on your conscience for too long. Now it's time to do something about it. You come to the realization that you're tired. So very very tired.

You needed to find your didn't need this right now - Don't have any reason to go through the motions like you are. The real you would never be phased by shit like this and you felt like a lapse in judgment is causing things to turn out the way that were. Expressing your emotions wasn't hard in any sense of the word, you just didn't know how to go about it in this particular situation. You have to be more of an adult about this.

Before you could do anything, you have to come to terms with every possibility. Having mulled over every possible option, you eventually settled on facing him. You would just get it over with, if not to see where the two of you currently stood. Mustering up the courage wasn't all that hard since your mother had unknowingly empowered you through her words and honesty. The decision was marginally better than waiting things out until you ultimately pulled your hair out by the roots. At the very least, you could put the situation at rest and give you peace of mind. You couldn't avoid him forever - can't stomach the thought of never speaking to him again.

After distributing a fair amount of leave-in conditioner into your hair, you wrapped a band around it to keep it up so it could air dry on its own and looked at yourself in the foggy mirror. Wearing your natural hair accentuated your baby face and you weren't sure how you felt about it. Throwing on a thin hoodie, leggings, and ugg boots you then headed towards the door.

"Bye ma!" You yelled just before shutting the door and heading to your car. Once inside you cranked up the heat on full blast to knock out the chill, pulling out your phone to type a message.

I'm coming over. - You

You waited a few moments as the text sent and couldn't quite squash the small feeling of regret associated with sending risky messages like this. Only when the phone vibrated a minute later did you feel any semblance of relief.

Okay. - John.

A massive pressure was left off your shoulder seeing the message - him providing a response was a good sign. A simple conversation can clear up a lot of childish misunderstanding. This was it. The time of reckoning is now.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Standing there at his front door had never given you so much anxiety as it did now. It feels like you're standing at a crossroads. Lucky for you, it wasn't one of the more freezing cold days outside. The door opens abruptly and you're chilled faster than the swirled air circulating outside.

He looked like his normal self - clad in a white shirt that hugged his chest and blue jeans. To see him again after a while felt nice. Your stomach is doing flips. What you planned to accomplish by purposely avoiding him, you'd never know. Stepping aside, he allows you entrance into his residence to which you oblige. In the midst of everything, the dog happily trails over to greet you. Sweetface kept extremely close to you, completely dismissing his owner in favor of your attention. Admittedly, you missed the pouch and you bent down to give him a generous petting. You came with the steel resolve of getting your things, saying what you had to say and leaving.

John's gaze shifts over your face then to your hair pulled into a big, curly pineapple at the top of your head. Though you're anxious to have his hands on you again, you wisely kept your distance. Intimacy isn't why you came here.

Without a word of greeting, something that was very out of character, you began a somewhat confident stride to the intricate winding stairs, wordlessly ascending them towards the bedroom. Once in the room, you set about gathering your clothes and other possessions, placing them within your overnight bag. Moving with a sort of robotism, not at all in a hurried manner that you would expect.

You blink down at the bag for a moment before something enters your peripheral vision. And your heart nearly stops when you finally noticed John standing in the bedroom's doorway, watching you place your things in the overnight bag. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. The stance brought attention to his broad shoulders and toned arms. You didn't even hear him coming up the stairs, that's how quiet he was. His posturing had your thoughts shifting into other territory - territory that wasn't right for that moment.

No words were spoken and the anticipation left you practically breathless.

You can do this. You can do this.

"Milaya?" You perked up at the word that's clearly associated with you since he only used it while in your vicinity. Hearing his low baritone is enough to bring your body back to life. If not for the circumstances you might've wanted things to go another way. But you remind yourself that there's a time and a place for certain things. Satisfying sexual desires isn't encouraged at this point in time no matter how much your body ached for him.

"I guess you want to talk about the dog bow ties?" You laugh, if only to distract from your nervousness.

He deliberately let you into his complex, secretive life. A hardened man. The reality of it made it all the more complicated. Therefore it was wholly unrealistic for the two of you to not talk about it.

"Before we do that, tell me why you were at the Continental three days ago." A gun could've been placed to your temple with the way you froze. The straightforward question stops you right in your tracks.

How stupid did you have to be not to realize that a seasoned killer who hunted and killed for a living wouldn't be able to spot out a car that he'd purchased a short while ago. Due to his job, he goes away periodically with no true expectancy time. For all you know, he probably caught sight of you the moment he stepped out of the building. Turns out that you'd severely underestimated him in that aspect.

And now he's asking you why you felt the need to show up at a place he frequented without consulting him. You simply don't do shit like that to a trained assassin. In the moment, you didn't contemplate what your actions entailed and the consequences they would bring. Something tells you that you're in trouble and suddenly you want to run and hide.

Despite being a man of few words. John is way too forward and blunt not to voice any concerns he had. The fact that he'd known this whole time was jarring.

"Do you really need to know why? Is it really that important?" Your cheeks are colored with embarrassment. You weren't expecting him to be so direct about it. Tiptoeing around the issue is impossible for you and you very nearly crumpled under his rapt attention. His expression had the capacity to turn the sun into a giant block of ice - it was haunting. Though at the same time, it effectively sent bolts of heat into your stomach. His gaze hardens and it tells you that he's deadly serious.

Your attempt at downplaying the incident was having no visible effect on John, whose apathetic countenance was still set firmly in place. It's so out of character and unnatural for you to try and downplay anything. You could try and downplay the circumstances but you aren't able to downplay how you felt about it. The feeling is eating you alive.

"So I'm caught?"

"Yeah."

Knowing better than to try and bullshit your way out of this, you still bid time to craft a solid answer. You're not sure how this is going to play out. He told you once before that wouldn't tolerate you lying to him. You try not to be irrational but it was a little too late for that.

"Your explanation...I'm waiting." John pressed, an air of suspicious lightly coating his even tone. He didn't raise his voice once, nor did it hint at any irritation or anger. You expected no less from his quiet, reserved nature.

The tension was skyrocketing to unbearable heights. With every growing second you're feeling more antsy. This was feeling more and more like an interrogation - like you were being put on trial for your transgressions. You honestly don't want him to know that you trip over him like you do. With an unspoken tension between the two of you, there was no telling where the conversation was headed.

The hitman suddenly comes to tower over you, the heat wafting off his body welcoming after weeks of not having any physical interaction. You resist the urge to close the remaining distance and press against his broad frame. Your body wanted to act on the impulses but your mind is in another place entirely. He was calmly awaiting your answer, waiting to see what it would be.

Your thoughts aren't filtering the way you want them to, causing a jumbled mess in the recesses of your mind. On top of that, you overthink over the simplest, most insignificant things. What the fuck are you going to say?

The air is suffocating. "John...I...I want to -" You weren't prepared for this like you thought you were.

He was probably questioning your intentions and he was entitled to. Going to the Continental Hotel was a big no-no for him and you respect the rule for you not to go there. A boundary had been crossed and it can't be overlooked. If a man like him instructs you not to do something then you should probably, in all likelihood listen. By going there you put your family and friends in potential danger. The wrong person would have caught sight of you. It didn't matter that he'd brought you there before, that was under covert, differing circumstances. And only a handful of people actually saw you leave.

A hand came up to caress the side of your face and air escaped your lungs as you quickly melted into the touch.

Your heart lurches at the thought of confessing love for him. Theoretically, you could do it - spew the words out in an unfiltered, uncontrolled attempt to let him know how you feel before anxiety had the chance to get in the way. Only you weren't supposed to love him. Sticking to the upspoken agreement of sex every now and then with no complications. Any deviation from that was off-limits. He lives by a strict code that he doesn't deviate from.

You're expected to remain hidden, unnoticed - for the remainder of what they had going. No one in his clouded, blood stained world was supposed to know you existed. A man like him didn't have the need for something like love in his profession. You could never voice what you felt for him, regardless of how platonic the situationship is in your eyes. Not being capable of defining those feelings to him is the biggest upset.

"You were gone...for so long that I got worried. And you didn't call, you didn't text. I thought that something might have happened to you. So I went to the only place I thought you could be. When I got there, I saw - I saw you - I saw the both of you leaving together so I assumed."

A tiny glimmer of surprise passed over his face before it disappeared like it was never there. The tense silence stretched on a thin cord.

John studies your face with his indecipherable stoic gaze, seeing the emotion that you tried and failed to conceal. You can't gauge whether he's upset or not. While he doesn't angrily chastise you when he's well within his rights to do so, you still wished he didn't make you feel like an abashed child.

"I assume you avoided me out of anger and jealousy." He'd already accused you of jealousy once before and he was right on the money. He knows you better than you know him.

Casting your eyes to the floor in shame you nodded. "Yeah."

His facial expression remains the same the entire time. "While I'm honored that you feel the need to check on my well being. You must never venture to the continental again. If you wish to get into contact with me just call and I will get back with you as soon as I'm able."

You give a small nod.

"On the subject of Perkins...do you doubt that I was being truthful?"

"I don't doubt anything about you. I trust you - I don't trust her." This is the second time you'd mentioned Perkins to him. The fact that you have beef with a female assassin over a man is wild in itself and you think you know how it's gotten to this point. Not that knowing made it any better. Technically, what he does outside of you has nothing to do with you. Though you think that saying something like that isn't exactly fair to yourself but it's the truth.

"I'm not angry with you."

"Well, you should be." You shrug.

His eyes soften. "Why vilify you for acting on emotion? You're human it's expected. I can't hold anything against you for that."

"It's more to it than that."

"What do you mean?"

You rehearsed this so many times in your mind but the act of carrying it out was draining.

Words couldn't find themselves leaving your mouth fast enough and you froze up like a deer in the headlights when he regarded you more intensely than before. For some reason you can't quite read him this time. Your heart is pounding loudly against your ribcage and you shouldn't be stressing like you are but it's evitable.

Sweetface watched the two of you, shifting nervously as if he could sense the charged tension in the room.

"While you were gone, I found out that I'm extremely committed to this." You motioned to the space between your bodies. "To you. I came to tell you that if there's something going on between you two then it needed to stop, but then I had to realize that...that I have no legitimate claim over you. Despite how deeply I feel for you."

His form develops an unnatural stillness, arms positioned stiffly at his sides. Almost like he needed a moment to absorb the statement.

"...But given our situation, any description of feelings would be detrimental."

"I mean...if you both are lovers then there's still nothing I can do about that." You said it like you were trying to convince yourself that you didn't care either way but you can't lie to yourself like you want to. "I'm not trying to blow it out of proportion or anything. I'm just saying what I feel."

"I was totally out of line. And then to accuse you when we're not even…" You quickly cut yourself off. "I won't do it again."

A pause in conversation made you look at him. You'd avoided his stare up until that point. He's still watching you intently, listening.

"Lately, I've been feeling crazy as hell. Like I'm losing too much of myself and I don't like this person I'm becoming. And then I had to deal with these really debilitating headaches. I know I shouldn't be acting like this."

John switches from curious to protective in an instant, hand tilting your head to the side to inspect you closely.

You sighed inwardly, this is one of the reasons you couldn't be upset with this man. All it takes is for him to touch you and you became putty in his hands to mold into whatever he wished. Their connection was motivated by pure, genuine desire. You're hopelessly attached to him with no foreseeable end in sight. Causal relationships don't always stay casual. That's generally the reality of life. But John messed you up, completely ruined you to the point where you're doing things like this and thinking it was somewhat justified. God...you wanted to give in.

"I have to - I want to do this...so I can feel better about me and the choices I make." You didn't like how cold and withdrawn your voice sounded, not indicative of the storm raging inside you. "I wanna take some time to pull together."

He looked blind-sighted by your words. "Have I not assured you that Perkins and I are not involved?"

"You did, but that's not exactly the point behind why I'm doing this."

"That's not necessary."

"It is for me...I just need to reevaluate some things."

You figure a person like him will be fine with it; he won't be as affected by the decision as you are. Still that didn't negate the fact that you left this happen by letting yourself fall for him without considering the ramifications. And it was because of those that you both weren't suitable for each other. As a consequence, you've placed yourself in a hard position. What's the moral, ethical way to respond to something like this?

Your low voices seemed to echo loudly in the ambience of the room.

"I'm not doing this because of you. I'm doing it because of me." For a moment, you feared how he'd take the explanation. The words are already like blades cutting into your soul and you can't imagine how he might feel hearing them pass through your lips. He didn't even know where this was coming from - hell you barely knew where it was coming from. The assertive, nonsense approach had him slightly taken aback.

"And you'll go through with this no matter what I say?"

Your head lowered at the question.

"And this reflection...how long will it take?"

The corner of your mouth drew upward, brows pulled together. "I don't know." You whispered. Despite how unsure your voice sounded, you need him to know that everything is fine. It's crucial that he understands the purpose behind your decision.

"If that's what you want to do."

With that, you looked up to him, meeting his chocolate gaze head on. In those warm brown eyes, you saw the unconcealed emotion - the concern, the confusion, the hurt. And it all makes you feel unquestionably guilty. Suddenly, you're disgusted. Disgusted that you're treating him this way. The explanation felt cruel despite its honesty and accountability.

Your actions showed a possessive tendency and the truth of it was that you were feeling clingy and insecure but it wasn't your place to be doing pop-ups on him especially while he worked.

Truthfully, you don't think you'll ever get over your physical need for him. You relied on him too heavily on him to make you feel good and that's where the issue stems from. You had nobody to blame but yourself - you wanted to be able to feel good on your own. Your creating problems that didn't need to exist, almost like sabotage. Everything isn't always about you and your refusal to acknowledge that it's ruining everything.

"Everything in my life feels off and I can't...I just can't. We just need some time away from each other so I can get myself together. That's all."

The silence that followed is nothing short of devastating.

Having failed to appease him with words, you slowly leaned in to brush your lips across his before pausing halfway through the gesture to recoil and pull back at the last second. Water clouded your vision as you slid past him, bag in hand. If the dam broke in his presence then you were sure that you'd be fucked.

A whine drew your attention, the dog stood behind you, head hanging low with sad eyes. At the sight, you can't help but think that he's expecting you to stay and it breaks your heart that that is not the case at all.

"I know. I know I'm sorry." Was all you could utter before you promptly fled out the door to your car. Once inside, your eyes shut momentarily as your head dropped against the steering wheel. "Dammit."

Had you known your actions would come back to bite you like this then you never would've gone there in the first place.

You needed to get out of here.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The bathtub is filled to the brim with hot water, bubbles, and good smelling essential oils. The result is a therapeutic atmosphere, one that was greatly needed. You even lit a few candles with a soft playlist to keep you from getting too lost within your thoughts. You've had enough of that for once. The newly recovered bag of clothes sat on the floor in the living room of your apartment untouched and unpacked. The only thing you can focus on is soothing your aching heart.

Beyonce's rendition of 'I'd Rather Go Blind' comes on the shuffle and you're immediately switching the song. As much as you loved her, you can't bear to listen to that song in your current state. With that done, you sank even lower in the tub until bubbles were practically up to your chin.

You're mentally exhausted. You were tired of feeling broken up and you wanted better for yourself and your situation. You valued him enough to give him some space, pursue your own interests, and maintain your life outside of him. All of your options were exhausted. Putting yourself first is something that doesn't happen often but you felt like it was essential in this case. This would work out. It had to.

Three days was too long to immerse yourself in sadness and now it was time to re-up.

Now it's different from when you were bartending and he stepped into the bar months ago - when you didn't know each other from a can of paint. It's wild to see how much life has changed since then. You clamped your lips together tightly.

Against your better judgement, your mind still did what it wanted - lingering on an issue you thought was already decided. The encounter with John put multiple things into perspective, the main one being - a break was absolutely necessary. And you're using the term break loosely. Technically, him being away for so long can count as a break but this time it was on your own terms. That made it glaringly clear but you were too stubborn to admit it.

You don't think people understand just how scary it is when people can just up and turn your life upside down - regardless of who you are and what you've done for them. Even if you're on good terms. They can just leave and never speak to you again. Distance is fine but disloyalty is not. The sad thing was you could not force anyone to do right by you and up until this point you hadn't liked how life was treating you. Until now, you didn't realize just how much of your time you spent occupying his space. He's on your mind damn near everyday.

In the beginning, it was easy to let things happen organically. With the factor of another woman being thrown in the equation, everything sorta fell apart. But the thing about that is the fact that you both were having sex with strings attached. One thing is for certain, you'd broken the unspoken rule of keeping the relationship strictly about sex. They established a whole fucking routine. Lots of domestic things were going on at the same time. What role did you play in his life beyond that?

You two slept together on a near regular basis, you confided in him, he gave you a car because you were upset. There's the issue of time spent together outside of sex as well. All of this adds into something - an emotional connection. Becoming something that's dangerously personal. Where did the lines begin to blur?

Honestly, you should've known better. You fell for this emotionally unavailable man and got your heart all mixed up. With a career like his, he can't afford to break routine - everything was always on the line. For that reason alone, you need to take a step back from this for a while. Doing what's best for you shouldn't feel bad.

At first, you were angry at him but now you don't know if you ever should've been.

Closing your eyes, you fought against the feeling. Once more, you have to remind yourself that this isn't a reflection of your self-worth even though he's made you more vulnerable in more ways than one.

John Wick didn't exactly strike you as a man who had time for juvenile antics like the one you pulled. You trust him and apparently he trusts you to a certain extent but is that enough?

Sex wasn't going to magically fix everything. You really didn't want the relationship to dissolve into nothing on account of your actions. In order to do better by him, you needed to do better by yourself.

Notwithstanding the actuality that the relationship was hardly dysfunctional, when insecurity gets excessive that's when the problem starts. It's not healthy for you or John. It's not his job to soothe any self-doubt that you felt every now and then. You can't always lean on him for reassurance, can't be too emotionally dependent on him. It's not fair. He can't be your only source of happiness.

You wondered what could you ever be to him? Was a specific title needed to specify the relationship of convenience.

The question is - were you willing to to deny yourself in order to preserve the secret relationship between the two of you. From the start, the relationship was never meant for anything to beyond sex so why in the hell did you have to fall for him like an idiot. You shouldn't have caught feelings for him in the first place. It hurt to think that your feelings weren't being reciprocated. John is not your significant other and his heart was probably closed off completely. And this put you in an awkward predicament. Admitting that you've gotten too comfortable with him is easy.

You can't control other people's actions and how they feel. Jasmine is pursuing a degree in psychology, so maybe she could help you figure this shit out.

The talk had definitely dissipated the worry that actively drowned you for days. The whole situation had been messing with you.

Suppression of feelings was for your sake and some time apart would do them both good. You took a deep breath, only now are you beginning to actually believe the words. At the present, you're feeling oddly more liberated than you already are. Finding a new focus remained the priority.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: One thing about me...imma sneak a Beyoncé reference in I don't care. This is only the start, next chapter we're getting into some things okay!


	12. Life Goes On...Or Does It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First I want to say Happy New Year to everyone! 2020 was a dumpster fire for everybody but 2021 will be much better. I'm speaking it into existence! I'm really sorry if this seems a little rushed, because technically it is. I also give some insight into John's perspective at the end. Hope you like it!
> 
> Sidenote: Just to let y'all know, I will be focusing on updating my other stories for the start of the year. And no it won't take me long to get back to Skyline.

Embarking into the kitchen, you procured a packet of peppermint tea from the top cabinet and placed a cup filled with water into the microwave. You'd been drinking a lot of the beverage lately since the aromatic herb has great calming effects in addition to relieving headaches and digestion issues. Except you drink it to feel healthy and energized. Even on recommendation from your grandmother, you haven't felt the need to consume any tea. Sweet or not.

Once you place the tea packet in the mug, you curl up on the sofa with a book in hand. At first, you felt like an old ass woman - an old ass woman that has her shit together but an old ass woman no less. It's crazy to think that a few weeks ago, you never would've considered this but look at you now. It's only now that you realize why so many people do this - it's actually alright. Reading has been a huge distraction for you, habitually taking your mind off things you didn't want to spare time or energy towards. Along with that, you're practicing more positive thoughts. And you're not watching much TV either and it kind of feels like you're one of those white women that gets separated from their partner, drops everything, and go's on a soul-searching journey. Except there's no pocketful of sunshine.

For the most part, you've been taking things relatively easy. Doing a little cleaning here and there but that's always therapeutic. Your general mood has changed drastically since you made a conscious choice not to think of him and because of that the thoughts have lessened over time. So far your life has been normal, quiet for the most part. As normal and quiet as it can be at this point. And you're not bothered by it since you haven't felt this sensible and level headed in a while. As a matter of fact, you'd even go so far as to say you missed it despite not being able to recall the last time you'd felt this way.

Who'd blame you?

You took a sip from the cup, the warm liquid feeling entirely too refreshing as it burned a path down your throat into your stomach. The feeling puts you at ease immediately. The light, cooling taste has a satisfying effect on your tongue and there's distinctive minty-fresh aroma lingering around the space and it leaves your nostrils open. Sometimes the worst place to be is in your own head.

The first day you felt like an absolute jackass. Most of it is spent pacing around and being completely on edge about the whole situation. Worrying about if you'd made a horrible mistake. Abstaining from him is literally one of the hardest things you ever had to endure. You're like an addict suffering from withdrawal and you don't know how many times you'd contemplated grabbing your keys to his house. The thought of throwing in the towel had crossed your mind more than a few times. And you couldn't find an ounce of peace for the remainder of the day.

The second day is a little less stressful but still stressful nonetheless. But you're a soldier. Now you wished that it's necessary for the brain to have a switch that can turn off all of life's pressures. You sure could use it right now.

Makes no difference how much you wished you could go back in time and change everything. Stewing in the negative feelings and thoughts wasn't an option especially after being presented with the opportunity to rid yourself of them. It wasn't making it any easier, admitting is one thing but still you're just managing it better. Apart from that, there's always a chance that the break could turn into never seeing one another again. Truthfully, you don't know how long the break will extend for only that it would continue until you felt confident. Once you get a hold on your anxiety then the process will be simpler.

Taking everything into account, you have a point to prove, if only to yourself.

Every moment not spent focusing on him is put towards socializing with your friends and giving time to your interests. It's all in an effort to find balance. Now you certainly have the time and energy. Things will eventually go back to normal. For that to happen you both have to be on the same page. The only thing that's wrong with that sentiment is that you have no clue on how John feels about the interval. And as much as you desperately want to know only time will tell.

Getting enough time for yourself has become a priority and you planned for it to stay that way on a regular basis. It feels good and you deserve it. Everything you do is starting to feel like little side quests whose sole purpose is to distract you from doing what you really wanted.

You alternate between naps and being proactive. One day, Tre suggested that you go to the gym with him and you reluctantly agreed. If you'd known that his ass would work you like a certified trainer then you would've stayed right at home. You almost died. Now you know why exercising never appealed to you. That shit is dark sided. Some of those workouts you never even heard of before. There's no way on God's green earth that you'd be able to do that shit on a daily basis. Why in the fuck would anyone choose to willing do that to themselves? He won't have to worry about you ever going again that's for sure. You shouldn't know better when your body damn near shuts down on you while attempting a sit-up.

He makes you commit to a full strenuous workout session, unable to leave until you power through the whole thing and if you didn't pull through then he'd upload an embarrassing video of you drunk at a Christmas party from last year. No matter how much you begged and pleaded, he wouldn't delete it - it's one of the reasons why you hated getting blackout drunk in front of your friends. Although, they called it memories, you called it blackmail to use for later. Tre himself, is tall and very much in shape. Working out is normal for him and he doesn't play any games with it. As a quick warm-up you both ran a mile on a treadmill, which in your opinion is one of the absolute worst. Not to mention that Tre finished ten minutes ahead of you. Who the fuck did he think he was anyway...Usain Bolt?

And might've hated the whole experience if he didn't keep you laughing every five minutes. It's impossible to do a sit-up at the same time you're releasing a belly laugh. Embarrassment is the only thing that kept you from dying on the padded floor of the gym. It's not like you're out of shape, this is merely a means to get you out of the apartment. Another reason you avoid going to the gym is the inability to deal with the staring. You struggling to push through a workout gives people more than enough grounds to eyeball you.

For once, you're not entrenched in emotional complications. With your stress levels reduced, you feel much more comfortable than before - like you can concentrate on the things you need to. You've gotten better at knowing when you're due for an episode. For the most part, the pills have been helping with the head pain and you haven't had to deal with the inconvenience of a headache for days now.

Once you return home, you discover that your hair has been delivered in your absence. A shrill of delight zips through you. The quality of the hair is full, soft and doesn't look as if it'll shed after a while. The hair is an essential Ombre brown HD lace front wig - the type that someone would find online or in a store for six-hundred dollars. Thankfully, you're able to get your hair at a cheaper price of two-hundred even. You never were really adventurous when it came to having any sort of color in your hair, usually always preferring to stick with black. On the other hand, it's nice to switch it up every now and then. Experiment.

You'd never worn a lace front wig before so naturally you're skeptical about how it'll turn out. Lace fronts and frontals require excess maintenance and you don't have the patience for any of it. At first, you were worried about not being able to find someone to install it on such short notice. Though your stylist Shannon is quick to refer you to a woman that works in her shop named Chardai who specializes in installs. You'd seen some of her work on social media before and she's pretty good at what she does so a lot of your worries are quelled instantly.

Every single person close to you knows how iffy you are about letting new people in your hair. Nothing like new hair to make you feel like a new person. It's easy to maintain conversation with her without it being totally awkward.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The magical feeling a bookstore gives you when you walk into it is unmatched. And there's not much that can compare to it. The tall shelves of books around you is like a paradise you never wanted to leave. Browsing a bookstore will forever be a thrill.

Aside from the public library, this is the only other place you can state your love of reading. Here there's no shame in feeling like a weirdo for liking the smell of new books. While this is technically a new store, you have yet to build a relationship with the employees. For once, you don't mind striking up a conversation with strangers about literature. The clerk is friendly and personable even when you ask for book recommendations.

Minutes quickly blur into hours if you find a book interesting enough. Paperback or hardback, it really doesn't matter. Stimulating your mind is all you care about. Typically, you avoid the romance section in favor of something like true crime. Those are always informative, believe it or not.

Since the majority of Barnes and Noble went out of business you've wondered if you'd be forced to read in places like Starbucks where the customers are pretentious and the smell of coffee lingers in your nose days on end.

The bell on the entrance chimes and you see a young black girl dressed in hues of black and dark purple and your interest is piqued. The grunge/alternative lifestyle has always been something that fascinated you even as a young teenager. From the culture right down to the clothing. It's deeper than just shopping at Hot Topic and listening to Paramore. After this, you might even invest in your own pair of chunky black boots and fishnets. It's only right.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Alexis' place is a little ways from yours, not really within walking distance but still close enough to get there in a shirt drive. Since you're desperate for a change of scenery having spent what you deemed enough time in your residence when she invited you over you jumped at the chance, picking up Jasmine from work along the way. Without fail, the three of you set around the living room and talk.

"I'm not going to get too messed up. I wanna save some drunk for the party."

"You're so pitiful." Jasmine laughs.

"And you're gonna be pitiful right with me."

"I'm not sad, I just didn't want to talk about it."

"Okay so...that means you're sad. Is that why you've been acting like somebody's grandma? Endorsing tea and shit?"

"You act like I'm suffering or something."

"I ain't say all that, sounds like a guilty conscience though."

"It's not though."

"How much do you wanna bet it's man trouble?" Jasmine insinuated to Alexis.

"Don't worry about it. Let me break out the playlist."

"Playlist?"

Summer Walker's Playing Games starts up from the speakers near the tv. "I'm dedicating this one to you." Alexis says. "Listen you might as well just get it out right now cause we're going to that party tomorrow."

"I'm not fucking sad. The only reason I pulled up on him is-"

"Oh so you doing pop-ups and didn't call nobody? Aw okay."

"Don't even do that. If I would've brought y'all with me then I'm sure our assess would be in jail. So I don't wanna hear that. I know y'all and how y'all get down." Even though you could hardly take their asses anywhere but you loved them. Despite everything, they're true, loyal friends ready to ride for you whenever. And you wouldn't trade them for the world.

"About three weeks ago he left on a business trip and I hadn't heard from him. Naturally, I was concerned so I went to the place I thought he could be. I sat there for a while like a fool just about to pack it up and leave. Then...he came out but he wasn't alone."

After that statement, you noticed your friends freeze up at the admission, Jasmine with a glass halfway to her lip and Alexis with her neck at an angle awaiting the rest of your admission like an important news bulletin on the five o'clock news. Needless to say, you braced yourself for the resulting reaction your words would bring, silently praying that they're reaction would be as bad as you expected.

"The Perkins woman was right behind him."

Jasmine promptly set her glass down on the table while Alexis leaned back with her mouth wide open.

"Now I won't lie, I wanna know more about who this woman is. She's causing a little too much conflict between y'all."

Alexis sighed. "I'm already sick of hearing about this bitch. At this point it's giving fan, it's giving miserable bitch. See...that's why you gonna beat hoes up the first time."

"So you didn't run them over, you didn't start planning their funerals, what did you do?"

"I took my L in peace and went back to my folks house."

Jasmine sucked her teeth. "Ain't nobody going up about men folk nowadays."

Alexis wasn't having it. "Tuh! Who ain't? I'll beat a bitch with a brick about mine. And Jasmine you really can't talk because…" Hearing the words, you knew she meant every word. If your crazy ass friend had her way, she'd surely chop up any meddling woman into pieces.

Jasmine is quick to wave her off. "Okay...okay we're not gonna get into that. Don't bring up old shit."

"Yeah. You better act like you know."

"No I'm still on this other woman shit. You need to learn to let that polite shit go. Tell the hoe to move out the way!"

You folded your hands in your lap. "I'm choosing peace over violence."

"Okay Mother Teresa." Alexis said, rolling her eyes. "You still should've dragged her but okay. You and Jasmine get on my nerves tryna take the high road all the time. Let go and let God!"

"What good is that gonna do me?"

"Hell it'll make you feel better at least! As a matter of fact, I hope she knows that she's not seeing my friend, period. Whoever she is."

"I'm not in competition with that woman...especially about a man."

"Girl fuck all that. He's yours." Alexis' corrects. "I know it, you know it, and she knows it."

You didn't even acknowledge the comment anymore, it's a lost cause at this point. You liked the idea of a man rather than actually having one but she clearly has her heart set.

"Lex you're missing the point, she can't put a claim of ownership on him because they aren't together."

"That's a lie, they're together in spirit."

Even Jasmine couldn't couldn't contain her amusement. "Girl what the hell is wrong with you?" she giggled.

"I mean they can't not be together I'm already claiming him as my brother."

"Oh no the fuck you ain't." You interrupted, setting wide, deadly serious eyes on her.

"Sis that is big bro. That's brotha."

The resulting screaming you and Jasmine let out almost shook the woman's apartment. If the neighbors were home, they'd be pissed.

"While he buying cars and shit, tell him to get you a house."

"It doesn't matter because we're not talking right now."

"Not talking?"

"Yeah, we're taking some time apart. At first, it was eating me up but now I'm not trippin because it's needed honestly. I made the executive decision and I stand by it." Even though you want to be in his presence so bad it's nearly killing you but it's not exactly a lie. "To be honest, we're not even supposed to be fucking each other." They didn't know what you truly meant by that and frankly you can't ever tell them. You're literally at war with yourself over your decision to stay away everyday.

"I see where you're coming from and I'm all for your happiness but me? I'm not taking a break from nothing. I'd just make him apologize in other ways."

"Ways like what?"

"Shit I don't know! He gotta do something out of the box like lick my toes or eat my ass or something." The woman asserted.

"He already did that." You whispered under your breath.

"Wait what!?" Both women shrank back in surprise.

"When did this happen?"

"Not long ago." You shrugged.

Now you're sure if you should've let that interesting tidbit of information slip out. Too long now, might as well lay all your cards out on the table.

"Like with tongue and everything?"

"Umm yeah."

Jasmine propped her chin on her hand in curiosity. "And you didn't ask him to do it? He just...did it. Dove right in?"

"Mmmhh."

Jasmine snorted, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Alright, I'm officially inclined to say that he's definitely your man now. Y'all are locked in for sure. I can see why you popping up on him and shit. Once you get into that territory, there's no going back."

"I rest my case. You can't deny it anymore." Alexis laughs.

"It's not about him...it's about me! I stepped away because I felt like it was getting too intense."

"Intense like he's gonna propose or…"

The notion is laughable but you gave her a lethal side eye.

Alexis shook her head in an annoyed fashion. "I'm just tryna lighten up the mood goddamn."

"How long has this break been going on?" Jasmine goes, ignoring Alexis' antics.

"Bout a week."

"And how do you feel?"

"I feel...okay I guess. On the upside, I've gotten some inner peace that I really needed. But on the downside, I miss him. Like I really really miss him with everything in me. And the worst thing about it - even if I wanted to go to him now, I wouldn't even know what to say." You explained, voice cracking a little, bottom lip curling as you looked away.

You rubbed a hand over your face in frustration, you're not exactly a person who could wallow in such feelings for long. "Then there's so much in between that that I can't even get into."

Your friends shared a look of raised eyebrows and concerned expressions.

Jasmine slid closer, taking in a long breath. "With stuff like this, sometimes you just gotta be willing to put yourself out there. You and that man obviously have some sort of connection for you to be feelin like you are. I can't tell you what to do because only you know what you want to do. And you'll do it when the time's right."

You folded your arms hearing that.

"Do you regret being with him?" She continued.

"No. I could never regret that. He's one of those people that you only come across once in a lifetime. The kind you wanna hold unto."

Both women are visibly thrown off by your confession, torn between shook and something undetermined. "If he's someone like that...if he's how you say he is. Then why are you running from him." Jasmine enquired, cross-examining you like a detective in a homicide investigation.

You shifted uncomfortably. "I...I don't know."

Alexis reaches over to take your hands in hers. "Beloved." You try not to laugh at Alexis' attempt to emulate Iyanla's likeness. "At this point. You just need to let go of everything that doesn't serve you. Everything except John."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

You and Jasmine wait to meet up at Alexis' house to start getting ready.

"I am so ready! The streets been calling my name!"

"Girl nobody calling you but Pj."

Though you opted to drive your own car so when the time came to leave, you wouldn't cut your friends night short. When you're ready to go - you're ready to go. There wouldn't be any waiting. Jasmine gave you shit about this but you stand by your choice.

In spite of a chill in the air, you're relieved it isn't as cold as you thought it would be. Otherwise the costume choice would be an awful one. All three of you dressed as Lola Bunny from Space Jam with fake ears and furry tails. Before the idea of wearing the same costume, you were seriously considering going as tinker bell to which Alexis judged as lame. The party is thrown by some of Tre's frat brother's in a modest looking building that's probably used to host all kinds of events. The party is way more lit than you expected it to be. Drinks are flowing and people in costumes are mingling off to the side. The smell of weed is loud as hell.

Tre finds the three of you fairly quickly after you step foot in the door and you all exchange hugs and pleasantries. "What took y'all so long?"

"Jas and that damn winged eyeliner!"

"Girl what you doing will all that ass?" While you're well aware of what the white shorts are doing for your ass, you'd rather not bring any attention to it than necessary.

Another guy comes up to stand next to him. "Ay this is my bro Will." He explains, slapping a hand on the guy's shoulder. Wil looks like the type that has a bunch of women under his belt and is staunchly committed to basketball shorts and Nike slides. Already the guy is smiling too hard at you and it's making you slightly uncomfortable. You wouldn't be caught dead entertaining a man like him.

The vibe is great, the music is fire - it really sets the tone for the whole night's atmosphere. The energy of everyone is off the charts crazy, to the point where you're smiling and dancing with people you've never seen a day in your life. For a brief second, you felt that you might be a bit too exposed but seeing some of the other girls' costumes, those thoughts were immediately put to rest.

You can take a compliment but not when it's sole purpose is to charm you out of your panties. Your face sits in a mostly placid state, unwanted and unwilling to shift.

He's charming, you'll give him that. But he doesn't do it for you. There's just something about him. Your tastes run differently now. During your days as a naïve freshman, you might have given him a chance but now...

As expected, he's asking you all kinds of personal questions in an attempt to get to know you better. There's a chillness about him but knowing mean and how deceptive they could be - this could easily be a front. "Want a drink, little mama?"

Truthfully, you're not drinking because you worried that it might interfere with your medication. But you still wouldn't take a drink from him regardless. You awkwardly smile and shift away from him, trying to keep a sizable distance. "Nah, I'm good."

"You sure? Plenty for everybody."

"You know what...I think I'll take you up on that." You have absolutely no interest in him whatsoever but obviously he's interested in you. You can always lie and say that you have a boyfriend but that doesn't always deter some men. And he looks like some men. Men and their audacity never ceases to amuse you. Maybe being unfazed is enough to get him to set his sight elsewhere but you're not so sure since he's pretty determined. He's getting too close to you. Soon he'll be trying to put his arm around you and invade your personal space. It's coming, you can feel it. You don't want to be mean but you needed him to take his ass on somewhere.

He flashed a big cheesy grin again and proceeded towards the bar area. Once he disappeared into the crowd, you hurriedly moved from the spot to a place where you couldn't be seen easily.

Having gotten your fill of dancing, you mostly moved to stand by the wall with your arms crossed, content to just watch your friends enjoy themselves. When you're not holding hands or linked by the arms, your crew is never far from one another. Jasmine is conversing with a girl whom she has a class with while Tre and Alexis are going stupid on a bottle of Amsterdam. They didn't think you were aware but you'd seen them paying close attention to you and Will like a couple of creeps. A set-up if there ever was one. You have absolutely no intention of becoming a part of some half-ass bet. The rest of the night would not be spent ducking and dodging this man.

Jasmine has had the same cup in her hand all night. If anything Lex is gonna be the only one fucked tonight. Earlier you'd warned her about drinking on an empty stomach so she'd eaten one chicken wing from a gas station and proclaimed that she was ready to go. She's crazy for just eating one though, gas station chicken hits different.

There's a blonde woman that just keeps flashing you a smile every time you look up. You figure that she's just too shy to speak up and make a new friend seeing as you'd been there before. You're particularly sensitive to things like this.

Honestly, you're sick of having to stand and maneuver through the crowd so you inform your friends that it's about that time. "Alright imma head out."

Tre offers to guide you outside but you decline the offer. You don't want him to leave the party. Jasmine tells you to call her once you make it home and you tell her you 're seconds from reaching your car in the parking lot when a familiar face catches your eye. The blonde from the party is standing a few feet away.

Her face has an accent that you can't place. "I just wanted to tell you how pretty your makeup is. You should really try modeling."

For her to approach you like this is pretty sketchy but she seemed like a nice albeit weird person. "Thanks. But I don't think I'm cut out for that."

"Why not."

A damp rag comes up to cover the entirety of your face and a heavy arm wraps around your midsection to keep you in place just before you have a chance to put up a bid of fighting. When the abductor realizes that you weren't going down easily, the cloth is moved to cover just your mouth and nose, ceasing your ability to pull in air and force you to breathe in the funny smelling chemicals embedded within the rag. Whoever this is isn't even giving you the chance to scream. You're giving it your all until your body ultimately grows weaker and weaker until everything goes black.

The first thing you notice when you awaken is that you're dazed and confused in the back of a moving car. You lie on your side on the floor, limbs bound so together so tightly that you feel like a trussed up turkey. Quietly making note of everything in the vicinity. The fabric of the car around you, how tight the bindings are on your wrists and ankles. There's no way of knowing how long you were out for.

To take you outside of a party is bold. All you wanted to do was enjoy a night out with friends, why did you have to get kidnapped. It's a good thing that you decided not to drink tonight, otherwise you might have woken up confused as all hell. Suddenly it's strange to think that God is watching this all play out.

Just what the fuck is going on with your life?

After recovering from another bout of stupor, you find that you're in motion. Someone is carrying you across their shoulder, you can tell by a pair of boots walking across a dusty floor. From your limited view, it appears that you're in an old building that might be abandoned. He's moving down a long corridor passing rooms, some with the doors closed and some open. Where they're transporting you can't be good.

When you're watching the news, you hear all types of stories about murders, robberies, kidnappings, or other atrocities. Oftentimes, thanking God for keeping you and your family protected. And you think for a second that you could ever get caught up in such happenings that you would never experience anything of that magnitude. Given the predicament you're in now, you wonder how in the hell this cold wind up happening to you of all people; being snatched up as you walked to your car from a party. This is the type of shit that happens on tv shows, movies, or in the worst case - real life. You're now made an example.

Falling into a life of being sex trafficked isn't what anyone wants. Were they going to drug you and pimp you out to clients?

You're trying to rapidly scrap your brain for escape tactics that you'd seen on Law and Order but for some reason your mind is drawing a blank. It's no use - you're too startled to think straight, body too preoccupied with fighting against the elements. The best defense is passive cooperation. Trying to escape right now would be too risky and resisting now will only make the situation worse than it has to be.

Right now, you're coping with the situation the best you could've imagined. That almost never reflects reality when something goes in your life.

It's only now that you realize that the woman from the party was in cahoots with the kidnappers. She clearly provided a distraction as someone crept behind and incapacitated you. You merely thought of her as just another weirdo trying to make conversation with you at the party. No true red flags went off. She should feel like the scum of the earth for helping these men abduct other women and children.

A young girl no more than six or seven years old in bright pink pajamas lay unconscious on a dirty mattress in one of the rooms you passed - likely snatched from her bed. For that you're glad that she won't have to see the hell that she's now trapped in. There's a sinking in the pit of your stomach and your heart aches for her. Her parents probably didn't even know she was gone.

With the amount of kidnapping victims you've just seen, this has to be a secure location. There's a special place in the deepest pits of hell for people like this. They wouldn't be seeing a cloud of heaven.

There's anxiety about being placed on a filthy mattress in the middle of a floor but it should be the least of your worries. The surface is riddled with unidentified stains. It's undignified. The place smells like a combination of mildew and outside. Moonlight shone through an open window.

They're more organized than you thought. They knew what the hell they were doing. They're working for someone else who has a lot of power. Their job is to make people vanish. From what you've seen already, they do quite a nice job.

A man with a short cut and beard comes into the room to survey from the looks of it. "Any issue?"

"No."

"Good. Go do another scout, there's plenty of people out tonight."

Once the men heed his orders and leave the room, the bearded one walks up close to the mattress enough to make you shrink in on yourself.

"No need to worry little bunny, we won't rape you. The person who buys you will rape you."

He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. For you to be sold and raped.

Fate must be playing the cruelest joke.

"What? Don't have anything to say? Not going to plead for your life?"

You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "What good would that do? I've already seen all your faces. I know you're not planning to let me go." Typically, when a kidnapper doesn't take the time to conceal that means two things: one, they're aren't going to let you go and two, they might kill you.

A sinister smile crosses his face. "Smart bunny."

"Don't you take people for ransom?"

"Nope."

There's no sympathizing with people like him - people who have no clear consciousness when it comes to the plight of those they had a hand in victimizing.

"At first...we had our sights on your friend but you came out first." He flashes a sinister smile as he stares down at you. "This is what we do. I hope there's no hard feelings."

The proclamation makes you glower at him like you've got the power to force him to drop dead on the spot.

"It could've been anybody from that party." He assures like the assertion was supposed to make you feel better. If it hadn't been you then another innocent person would be taken from their families.

"People are a valuable investment. People pay good money for other people." He speaks as if he's talking about the weather, not stealing and distribution of people for large sums of money.

You still can't quite quell the level of disgust you feel hearing the words. He's some kind of sick to be able to participate, no - facilitate these kinds of activities. You refuse to let yourself feel an ounce of fear all of it leaves to make way for anger.

Unfortunately, you're too exhausted to put up a proper fight and you could offer no defense if the man decided to get violent. Your frame is shivering uncontrollably, fading in and out of consciousness, head pounding hard enough that it's making you feel nauseous. And it bothers you that you're not capable of doing anything to change your situation. Escaping is hard and the odds are definitely not in your favor.

You grit your teeth, fingers tightening into fists against the pain in your head. The binding seems like it's getting tighter around your wrists to the point where you can barely feel your fingers. It takes you a minute to regain your bearings.

If you continue to lay here the worst possible outcome is waiting for you and if it gets to that point then there will be no escape.

What are you waiting for?

Right now, you're in one of the shittiest positions a person could be in. Getting your brain to work logically is quickly becoming a failed endeavor and the sense of helplessness is starting to set in. Technically speaking, you've watched too many crime shows for your brain to fail you like this. One thing's for sure - the main priority here is surviving no matter what.

Sounds of panic and loud popping noises started to ring out in the distance and had you been any more disoriented you might've thought you were hallucinating. Even though you couldn't see it, you know that there's chaos going on somewhere in the building. The sound of gunfire exploding should've alarmed you but you're more confused than anything. Especially with your captor running out of the room in a panic.

There's not enough adrenaline to keep you from falling under again, in fact, your vision is growing significantly blurry. The next thing you register is that you're being wrapped in something, head against a heartbeat you can make out. As you turn your head up, the only thing you can see is a sharp jawline and perfectly trimmed facial hair. Whoever this is, they're carrying your limp body, strange since you weren't expecting anyone to swoop in and save you.

Everything around you turns into streaks of black and white. Next thing is notice that you're cushioned against something sturdy. A seat perhaps?

"...I'd like to make a dinner reservation for fifteen." You hear faintly, vision fading in and out.

The hell?

Who was setting up a dinner reservation at a time like this?

It was a strange time to be making a dinner reservation but you guess people go up about being seated where they wanted in a restaurant.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Blinking against the heavily clouded fog that is your mind, your eyes start to crack open slowly. While your awareness comes back, you recognize the surroundings as John's bedroom and your brows crease in confusion. The sight of your impassive lover sitting on the bed nearly sends you into shock, heart skipping a beat. You have no clue of how long he's been here watching you and you're obviously perplexed. Your senses are still a bit impaired and you still feel shit as shit. The dizziness probably wasn't going to subside anytime soon either.

The dull ache in your temple is ignored as you sit up in the bed. Your head still feels like it's underwater to a certain extent. It feels like someone is sitting on your chest.

"The exposure probably won't wear off for another few hours."

"What happened?" You croaked, voice sounding downright awful.

"You were taken." He clarifies evenly.

"I mean what happened to the people that took me?"

John's visage darkened but he didn't provide an answer for the men's fate. But you have a clear enough idea. Especially when you see that there's a gun secured in the holster on his hip. When you met you witnessed him gun down over a dozen men in a bar. It made perfect sense.

Though you can't push down the instantaneous feeling of elation you get in your chest as you realize that he'd come for you in your time of need. You were just kidnapped tonight and yet having to face him is giving you heart palpitations of the worst kind. You have a contract killer coming to your rescue unprompted like superman. What did you ever do to deserve such attention? You weren't expecting him to come through and do a sweep.

"Those other people...that little girl." You choked out. Though you try not to think about it - the image of that little girl haunts you. You're spared the sight of blood and mutilated bodies. And although, you've seen too much shit to be traumatized by your experience just knowing horrible things go on like that everyday is devastating.

"It's taken care of."

The overflow of relief hearing that is insurmountable. Thank God. At the same time, you don't feel a smidgen of sympathy for your abductors, as far as you're considered they got what they deserved. You don't get far in life doing dirt. Sometimes karma is a bullet to the brain.

Although you guessed it didn't matter given the circumstances, you were still inclined to ask.

"How did you know I was in danger?"

He falls into a steady silence. This is obviously unexpected for the both of you but certainly not unwelcome.

To say that there's built up tension between the two of you is an understatement. The time spent away from him felt like a torture you'd voluntarily subjected yourself to. Not at all remaining ignorant to the fact that you both were supposed to steer clear of each other.

"Why did you save me?"

His face gave away nothing. Which is not shocking, he's not the type to get sentimental. "Is it really that important?"

"John-"

"No, we don't have to talk about it now."

"And my car?"

"Returned to your residence."

Despite how you wanted to, you didn't ask him why he hadn't felt the need to return you to your apartment as well but you realize that suspicion might arise if people saw him carrying an unconscious woman in the building.

He ushered sweetface from the room so as to give you some space. Several prolonged moments pass in steely silence. Partially because it's much easier to avoid the elephant in the room. Honestly, you don't know what stands in the way of the both of you resuming what you have going. All of a sudden you're apprehensive to beach the subject.

You're already under a lot of pressure with him. Saying how you feel should never ruin a real connection, at least that's what you heard. Lots of things have happened in his absence. You don't consider yourself a normal person with a normal life so why try to be? Why entertain a charade?

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

You can't ease your mind away from the unmanageable anxiety you're experiencing at the moment. If distress was a person, it would be you. For a while, you can get out of your head enough to handle the situation at hand. That bids the question again. Are you running from him? After much consideration, you think it's because you fear that he's not able to return the feeling you shouldn't have had in the first place.

You did a quick study of his face, watching tiredly as he watches you with an unreadable expression. No doubt a product of his unemotional and pragmatic nature. Like a dark shadow presiding over your life.

"I don't want you to have any misconceptions. The business has a way of being somewhat unpredictable. Perkins had information of value on the target I was charged with hunting."

The statement confirmed your right assumption that John and the Perkins woman did the same kind of work.

"I apologize. The contract took much longer than expected."

"I also apologize for not contacting you. I didn't know it was such a matter of importance for you."

"It's okay."

One might assume that he operates quietly without incident. You don't have a secret code to adhere to. This isn't a surprise. You had little knowledge concerning the intricacies of being a hired killer. Unlike you, he lived by some sort of warped moral code. A code you aren't privy to understanding unless you're in a position like his. All you can do is second-guess what he might be thinking. He never explicitly tells. Never expresses frustration or disappointment. And sums up everything in the fewest words possible. It's hard to determine emotion hidden behind the expression of self-control.

"No more breaks. Ever. If there is an issue, we will talk. Do you understand?"

Throughout the whole exchange, you found yourself staring into his gravelly serious face. So you lay there unable to tear your eyes from him. "Yes."

"Stay. At least until morning."

It's surely not your finest hour but you can wholeheartedly give him your cooperation. You owe him this at least. "Okay." You hoarsely whispered.

You couldn't believe how stupid you'd been were. Your hyper-independence might be the cause. There's nothing wrong with wanting independence, pulling your own weight. But why deny others the right to provide and help you the way that they want? It didn't amount to anything. It feels wrong to push him away then crave his attention. He's not one to be disregarded.

The question passes through your mind one more. Are you running from him? After days of drifting in and out of different headspaces, this sudden rift is needed to tune out everything unfavorable. Especially since, you've been constantly looking for an outlet to challenge your thoughts and emotions.

For this, you can side aside your moral reservations. You decided that you can stand existing in this perpetual state of living for longer. You can endure this if only you had him like this. Existing in a world without him is hard. Even after everything you tried, it's still led back to this. Back to him.

This inescapable feeling - you don't think there's a name for it. It just is. No amount of time spent away from him - whether it be a week or a month will erase what you feel for him. What they had remained undefined and there's nothing that comes to mind that it could evolve into.

Now if you asked yourself how you felt being away from him for so long, the answer would be shitty - very, very shitty. All of this just because you feel unsure.

But you do acknowledge that you're not a helpless woman by any means but sometimes he makes you feel that way, not that it's a bad thing either.

The whole relationship is about being a source of sexual solace for the other so how did it get so complicated so damn fast? In hindsight, you say that change happens when you start feeling things beyond lust. For you, it's not just sex and its never been that. And it's that magnitude of vulnerability that scares you.

What does it mean when a hitman seeks your emotional and physical comfort above all else? Anticipating your wants and needs before you do. You tried not to think about how much pressure that puts on you. Or lack thereof.

Even after all that progress, you're right back where you started - deep within an endless void of overthinking, constant worrying, and needing reassurance. Everything is just so confusing.

The room is dead silent and you can't even find it in yourself to be uncomfortable on account of your rising emotions that you thought you'd pushed down. You're determined not to break the tranquility that envelopes the space.

In the end, aside from a temporary peace of mind, you got nothing out of it. It's foolish to think you could erase him from your heart. Having enough faith in yourself not to screw up again is a huge gamble. At this juncture, you're not about to ruin a moment with unpleasant thoughts that's plagued you for the longest.

There is a substantial amount of doubt you can't shake and uncontrolled feelings you don't have the capability to grapple with just yet. Getting past the fragility of your inner self is challenging. Nothing in life prepares you for this and that's the hard truth of it.

He steps away for a brief moment and you faintly hear the taps in the bathroom turn on. Currently, your energy reserves are low and you can't do much in the way of complying and allowing yourself to be assisted. Soon you're dozing off without truly noticing it.

His timbre is low and mild. "Don't fall asleep okay."

Probably sensing that you're running on empty, John carefully scoops you into his arms, lifting your body from the warmth of the sheets and starts carrying you into the bathroom where a bath has been drawn. He sets out on unsteady feet, a hand is kept at the small of your back to prevent you from tumbling over should you lose balance. Having these large, deadly hands on you ignited a previously thought to be extinguished fire inside your gut. In fact, you don't do much besides look upon him with a docile gaze and let him do whatever he wanted.

The feel of his hands against you is almost overwhelming. You highly doubted that he was trying to seduce you but your body's too happy to accept that as fact. You just...can't help it. There's a deep yearning for him beneath the surface.

He catches your gaze again, silently asking your permission. Which is granted a second later. The way he's looking at you makes your skin erupt in goosebumps. A familiar thing from a familiar scene. Everything he does is serious. Intense.

With painstaking care, John set about relieving you of every stitch of clothing that clung to your body. The white crop top is lifted up and off you in one smooth motion. You're not wearing a bra so your breasts are immediately exposed to his sight. As an afterthought, you cross your arms across over your chest. At first, you thought he might have a slight reaction to the sight but instead he focuses on lowering to his knees to remove your shorts.

This kind of physical activity wakes your body right on up. Arousal burned hotly within your frame. You tried to will it away to no avail. Maybe you should advocate for the reconnection of the mind and body seeing as both of those operate separately. Who doesn't like getting rubbed on and babied?

One thing he can't ignore however, is that your bare cunt is now directly in front of his face. As a matter of fact, John actually stares at him for a moment, jaw clenched tight, almost like he's having trouble reigning himself in. The sight of the mound is enough to elicit a reaction from him.

After a minute, you're standing stark naked in front of him while he remains fully clothed. At this stage, there isn't any concern for modesty in front of him, he'd practically kissed, licked, and sucked everything you had to offer.

The flowing felt particularly nice over your skin and is at an ideal temperature. You usually prefer to boil in water that's way too hot. He transverses your limbs expertly. He starts at your neck and shoulders before taking to care to get your chest, torso, and legs. The lathered cloth trailed delicately over your bare flesh, rapt attention solely focused on cleaning you to the best of his ability. He runs the fabric over the surface of your flat stomach.

So far you're able to keep your hormones under control until the towel dips towards your lower body to finish the cleaning session. John is rubbing careful circles around your vulva and your outside lips gently. You jolted at the contact - he rubbing on your most sensitive area is having the desired effect with your oxygen intake increasing and your body temperature spiking dramatically. Inadvertently, your cunt started pulsing and wetness started to gather there.

Grasping a hold on his hand, you pulled the towel away, purposely placing his hand against your mound. Your initial plan to suppress inner desires is failing miserably and you admittedly can't conjure up the slightest hint of guilt.

He ignored the subtle invitation, albeit grudgingly. Maintaining a serene disposition while he bathed you. To your chagrin, he would not be taking the open invitation.

The two of you hadn't had sex in so long and you were feigning for it and his actions are encouraging lusty sensations. Touching you with a light feather caress. Could this count as fondling even though the sole purpose is bathing you? No one has bathed you since you were a child. You like how this feels - having him take care of you like a toddler.

This type of treatment from a professional killer is eye-opening. This could mean many things. John is - after all, an extraordinary accommodating man. He's so attuned to you that it's almost scary and you're exceedingly grateful for what he's choosing to do for you. It's small things like this that make you feel cared for - protected. John shows you how he feels instead of telling. You thought that caring for you has become a priority for him though you wish he'd give you more insight.

Before long, he's assisting you up and out of the water in a gentle manner, then toweling you dry.

"I didn't take you for a caregiver."

John's impossibly deep voice answers. "I'm not."

"Do you have a scarf or something I can wrap my hair in?"

He seems confused for a moment and you can almost see the gears turning his head before a glint flashes in his eyes. Soon he's moving to a drawer and procuring a silk scarf to give to you.

"Thank you."

He guides you back to the bedroom and encourages you to lay on the mattress.

The pursuit of learning and understanding the relationship dynamic has more to do with finding out how the other works and ultimately limiting fears. What's so important about understanding John is the interpretation of his actions. What is he guarding beneath that hardened exterior?

Just being near him, hearing him, seeing him - it's more than enough for you. "I missed you." You murmur, not truly knowing if he can hear you.

Time passes differently when you're in his arms. You barely notice him dragging his fingers up and down your spine. It's like nothing else matters outside of him. He provides you all the comfort and solace you need after your ordeal and everything negative drains out of you in that instant. This here - means everything and more to you. He shifts you on your side, pressing your forehead against the firmness of his chest. Letting his heartbeat lull you to sleep. When your eyes drift closed again, you settle deep into his embrace, falling asleep to the rhythm of his breathing.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

John silently watches your eyes drift closed, weight falling into his chest. Once you succumbed to exhaustion, he recounted the night's unexpected events. The men were nothing but low level sex trafficker's with no affiliation to the underworld who'd set their sights on the wrong woman and that was their downfall. Mowing them down took no time at all. They were likely operating under an even lower crime boss whom he felt like he'd have to deal with later on at some point. He deliberately left the scene before Charlie and his cleanup crew could learn of your existence. All of the other victims would be free to return to the homes they'd been stolen from.

The decision to place a tracker on your car was a crude, invasive one but it's needed in times like this. To see your car venturing out of city limits was alarming and he knew then and there that something was wrong. He would take no chances with your safety. He's aware of how you tend to draw eyes everywhere you go. With tonight's assembly, it was no wonder that you ended up in the predicament you had.

He knows you had to be afraid. You're usually quiet, complacent. He's not sure what to make of it. He can only suspect that it's either from tonight's events or the sudden confrontation streaming from where they last left off.

It was only a few days ago when you'd suggested a break in routine, leaving him wholly confused. On the contrary, he'd seen the weariness in your voice and on your expression. A week ago, he was forced to understand that you needed space and now he sees that you're in need of comfort and has no problem providing that as well. No questions, no complaints. He wondered how long you were going to deny him the pleasure of your company.

If he were honest, you didn't care about you 'following him', he just wanted you to never linger around the continental and its deadly clientele. As a civilian who knows too much already, he can't allow you to get caught in his affairs. He simply cannot allow it under any circumstance.

Even though need simmered dangerously in his aching loins, he vowed that he wouldn't be intimate with you until you felt as though you'd received adequate treatment. When that time came, there would be no more denying yourselves. The lust for your deliciously dipping body is anything but easy to stifle and it's been so long since he's had a taste of your succulent flesh. He hadn't meant to let his eyes linger on your exposed flower. As much as he tried, he could not ignore the soap dipping down your generous frame. There's an unquenched need for your warmth that he can't ever shake himself from craving.

If he didn't feel as if he doesn't have the privilege to initiate any intimacy with you, there's a possibility that he'd give into his desires quite quickly. He inherently understands not to push open a door you'd deliberately chosen to close. Therefore, he would not make the decision to engage in sexual liberties with you. Besides, you needed to rest properly.

You probably aren't aware in your tired state that he could in fact hear the whispered vocalization about missing him. A shocking revelation. But one that's markedly mutual. The time spent without you had him feeling somewhat lost. Confused.

He presses his face into the top of your forehead, eyes softening in the darkness of the room. "YA skuchal po tebe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Obviously, there's a lot to unpack here, and I mean a lot. I had to switch some things around but I got y'all next chapter I promise. On another note, I'm thinking of making a tumblr so I can communicate with my audience more.
> 
> Translation: YA skuchal po tebe = I missed you.


	13. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So the new tumblr is up and I've still got a lot of work to do on it but don't hesitate to ask me anything on there or just start a conversation. You can also check there for any announcements regarding the stories. I Like the Thrill and In My Dreams are chapters coming soon.
> 
> Sidenote: I was listening to Throat Baby while I wrote the explicit portion of the story so...consider yourselves warned. And don't forget to leave those long ass paragraphs I like! I will literally neglect my school work to write for y'all and I'm so serious.

John's bed is ridiculously comfortable. Like so snug that you would probably never consider leaving it if you didn't need to meet the basic needs to survive and carry on with life. It's like being wrapped in a huge warm cloud. The only reason you're awake right now is because your body has essentially forced you to get up instead of the opposite. That only means you're well-rested, something that's usually hard to come by. You can actually count on hand how many times it's happened.

Morning sunlight illuminates the room even with some of the blinds closed. Sitting up, you'd forgotten that you're completely naked as the comforter fell away exposing your top half. Sleeping naked always felt good and the fact that you slept so good in this bed was a testament to that. Lifting a hand to your cheek, you realize that you slept in a face full of makeup. Even the lashes are still intact. While you appreciate the latter, it still doesn't negate the fact that you hate sleeping with makeup on your face. Your skincare routine is extensive for a reason.

Sweetface has somehow let himself back into the bedroom if the slightly ajar door is any indication and is lounging at the foot of the bed. You always had a sneaking suspicion that he was capable of opening doors on his own.

Images from last night started flashing in bits and pieces inside your mind's eye and you cringed mentally. You'd been trussed up like a hog and brought to an abandoned warehouse. The dizziness isn't there anymore and surprisingly your head feels just fine. That's all you can ask for - a reprieve from both aliments. Apart from that, you never even got the chance to call Jasmine and tell her that you made it home safely because well...you didn't.

Last night's events should probably have you on edge and concerned for your safety but oddly enough you're calm about it. And that concerns you more than anything. It's far too difficult to navigate the blur of the prior night's events. The ordeal was over just as quickly as it began and you didn't really have time to sort through your emotions. What should the appropriate reaction be? Although you're not exactly sure what your reaction should be since you've never been kidnapped before. Your mood at the present is very matter-of-fact and you're okay with it for now. If it keeps from you an emotional breakdown then you can live with it.

Everything had been going fine until it wasn't.

Next to you, John is laying on his side facing you, one arm draped over a pillow acting as a barrier between your bodies. It's like the pillow was placed there specifically to ensure that he would not wrap himself around you in the middle of the night. Though you could be wrong. He's still very deep in the midst of sleep, the hard lines of his face relaxed, breaths coming out in a steady fashion. Ironically, you never noticed how defined and full his lashes are. You're still slightly disappointed that he isn't wrapped around you like he usually would be when sharing a bed. You love the feeling of waking up next to him, appreciating the fact that he's still asleep so you can watch him. Rarely, is he seen in a vulnerable state, you'd only seen it a handful of times and it's quite the privilege.

You can't help but wonder if he ever gets tired of coming through like Batman whenever you're caught in a precarious situation. After all, those incidents are happening more frequently and it had to weigh on him just like it weighed on you.

"...are you going to pop up and save me every time I'm in distress?"

"Perhaps."

He never really gave you a straight answer but you have a feeling that he'd given you an answer already foretold what he was going to do. John knew what he was going to do before he even offered a response. In spite of everything, you owe the man a boatload of gratitude for all he does.

Curling your lips, you look down at the bedspread in deep thought. You have to say, in this particular instance you didn't get to witness any carnage that likely ensued after you went under and for that you're grateful. Had John not made an appearance, you and the others would probably be in deep shit. Those people were out to destroy lives - take what people would never be able to get back. Their families, their lives, their sanity. You held the covers tightly to your chest, eyes closing against the thought.

When you glance at John again his brown orbs clash with yours and you nearly flinch. The intensity is there along with hints of concern, like he was waiting to see what you'd do next.

"Hey."

"Hey." He responds.

The moment is undeniably inconvenient and you're not sure what to say or do now he was awake and watching you with those shrewd eyes. Even when he sits up you're still picking your brain for something to say. You quickly averted your gaze elsewhere, unable to look at him.

Sweetface jumps up when he realizes that the both of you are awake and wastes no time sniffing over you excitedly with his tail wagging uncontrollably.

Even with this happening, you silently wished you were somewhere else - somewhere other than here. Being naked and speechless next to him in his bed is utterly embarrassing. And you can't fathom what he's 're still uncertain of where you both stand.

"I um...I need to go home. I have an appointment in a little bit." You stammered, holding the sheet ever closer to your chest.

Redressing in the same dirty clothes would defeat the purpose of bathing last night plus the weather is likely below freezing since it is morning. "I don't have any clothes."

After a few passing seconds, John leaves the bed altogether, retrieving a shirt and a pair of sweats that you must've forgotten when you came to get your bag of clothes. Suddenly, you're thankful for your forgetfulness. His actions are not at all surprising, in fact, it's just like him. Always punctual, always prepared.

Ever patient, John waits as you dress in the clothing, all a part of his selfless nature that seems deep ingrained in him.

You want to thank him for his generosity but one look at his unreadable face renders you unable to speak. John Wick has the power to compel you with just his silence.

Honestly, you don't want to leave but there's business to take care of. You never had to cancel an appointment with Ms. Stella and you wouldn't start now. Plus it isn't exactly an appointment you can just skip out on. "Afterwards...I'd like to come back to your place...if that's alright with you."

Dark brows lifted a fraction then reset in their original place. He gives a stiff nod as an answer and you're relieved. You didn't really know what to expect. Being standoffish isn't what you want anymore. You hope you're not sending him mixed signals because you're not trying to. Last night probably confused him even more.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Per doctor's orders, you're back at the clinic for your Tuesday appointment. Though you're not as upbeat as you usually are at least you're not outright miserable. It smells clean and sterile in the room. The wax paper you're sitting on barely protected you from the coldness of the exam bed. The care they give you hits close to home.

On your phone, there's a message from Jas saying that she basically spent the rest for the night taking care of Alexis after she'd gotten drunk as a skunk. Serves her right for not bothering to stop her when you'd suggested it the first time.

The older woman walks in with the usual equipment you recognize but haven't seen since you first got the implant three years ago. A nurse assistant you've never seen before files in behind her and you automatically assume that she's new. She's young and kinda favors Nicki Minaj a little. Someone has to have mentioned it to her before. With that thought in mind, the lyrics to Itty Bitty Piggy starts playing loud as hell in your head and you have to keep from laughing in order for it not to be awkward. This isn't the time to be childish.

During your earlier checkups, your mother would accompany you, side eyeing you when the physician asked if you were sexually active or not. Your mother knew you weren't, she just wanted to scare you and it worked. Most of the time. Regardless, going to the clinic was always nerve wracking. Doctor offices used to scare the daylights out of you. Now as an adult, you truly have no reason to stress or panic when a clinic appointment rolls around anymore.

Ms. Stella is readying the tools with a manicured hand, her cheerful disposition putting you at ease enough to where you're not as concerned as before. "You look tired...rough night?" She queries, her voice is calm and soothing like always.

"Something like that." You answer.

"I totally understand."

On the nearby table you spot the anesthetic that will be used on you and your heart starts beating a little faster. It dawns on you that this is your first time getting the implant taken out since you haven't been sexually active for long, just a few years. Despite knowing what's coming, you can't dissociate to distract yourself. The only things you remember about the first procedure is that you couldn't watch them put it in, your arms being numb for the rest of the day, and the long ass nap you took when you finally got home. Anything beyond that is a big question mark.

The biggest reason you even got the implant contraceptive was to limit your periods. These monthly periods used to kill you when you started getting them at fifteen. Before then, the worst pain you'd ever felt was a fall off your bike or a paper cut. Period pain was on another level and you would die happier than a squirrel with a nut if you never had to experience it ever again. Some women can handle it with no medicine and continue on with their lives just fine - you know that you're not built like that. One cramp had the ability to fuck up your whole day and you know better than to play with them. With the implant, your periods are irregular and you'll probably have two to three a year.

The nurse starts rubbing what you think is an alcohol pad on the spot where the needle will be inserted to numb your arm and you know what time it is. "This will only take about two minutes. The procedure won't take long at all." She explains.

You can't look. You're way too squeamish to watch someone make an incision on the underside of your arm. Believe it or not, you don't have an irrational fear of needles, you just couldn't watch then do it. All you feel is pressure on your arm. Okay, the painted wall is going to have to distract you now. You barely have time to brace yourself before you feel the needle breach the skin. Just from that small prick, your entire arms goes numb and would likely stay that way for the rest of the day.

Loud commotion from outside the room and frantic screams drew the attention of all three of you. The nurse and Ms. Stella lock eyes before the latter excuses herself and heads towards the door, leaving the nurse to resume the procedure. It occurs to you that something had gone terrible wrong outside.

An air of nervousness surrounds the space and you stare up at the ceiling, trying to pretend that you couldn't see the anxious expression of the nurse. Though you doubted that leaving a patient's room in a rush is proper protocol, something serious had to be going on for it to take place. After a few moments, the nurse sets the tools aside, apologizing and telling you that she'll be right back.

You don't blame her. Hell, you wanted to know what was going on too.

Peering through an open crack in the doorway, you get a clear view of all the chaos erupting within the hallway. One of the nurses lay collapsed on the floor writhing in pain while Ms. Stella and the other nurse were frantically trying to assist her. You're confused until the nurse's shifts from her crouched position and you see the fallen nurses and you see the falling nurse clutching her chest while gasping for air. In a split second, you're able to put two and two together - the woman is having a heart attack. The sight in front of you is so jarring and you're honestly shook. You've never seen anyone have a heart attack, feeling the fear and panic emulating from the workers is staggering.

Despite their training, you can see that the nurses are having a hard time remaining calm as one of their own is in danger of going into cardiac arrest right in front of them. It's pure pandemonium. Given the situation, it's easy to believe that the doctor wanted to save the life of her employee. You can understand that. This is a crisis of the worst kind. Saving the woman's life has become the highest priority.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The minute you stepped foot back into your apartment, you dropped the keys on the table and dropped unceremoniously onto the couch. Your eyelids are too heavy to keep open at this point and you won't put forth an ounce of effort to try. You're not exactly sleepy but your body does feel heavy and a little lethargic.

Consciousness begins to register in your brain and you realize that you've passed out on the couch. Although your sight is hazy at first, you can make out your lover's profile as he towers over you. You internally scold yourself for thinking that he's an intruder.

You don't know how long you've been out but it had to have been a few hours. "What are you doing here?"

"I called. You didn't answer." Oh, now you see. He'd been trying to get into contact with you, couldn't, and got concerned. Your phone is the next bowl that holds your keys. So if he called then you wouldn't have heard it. In your tiredness, you completely forgot you were supposed to meet back at his place.

You were sent home with a band-aid on your arm and no explanation as to what was going on. Although, you already knew. Finding him in your apartment isn't all that surprising. Is it you or does he seem to want to maintain close proximity.

Your arms are still aching at something serious and there's nothing you can do about it.

"Please...stay with me."

From your perception, it's as if everything happens in slow motion. You'd almost forgotten that you already revealed some descriptions of feelings for him. There's a pressure lingering in your chest that you want to dissipate as soon as possible.

"How was the appointment?"

"It went okay. But one of the nurses had a heart attack and it's like the whole place kinda got shook up about it. They patched me up and sent me home pretty quick."

He said that he wasn't upset with you but you don't know what's going on inside his head. Being given little insight into his thoughts and feelings, you haven't been able to rule anything out. It's okay to have a general idea but with no concrete indication it all goes into smoke. Amidst everything, never has he been cruel or dismissive towards you in any setting. He's always had a strong sense of obligation and he's a pretty sensible guy. Nothing gets past him without him noticing.

The words don't register with you like you suppose it should.

Following another failed attempt to read his closed off expression.

There's honest sincerity in his voice as he speaks evenly. Even if there's no conversation you can find comfort in his presence all the same.

"Are you feeling okay?" he calmly inquires.

He doesn't say it but you know what he's referring to. "Yeah I'm okay." Finding the words to offer a valid response is complex. Honestly, you don't know if that's a lie or not. For you, there's no real point in dwelling too much on it. You're not avoiding it, you just don't want to linger. It happened and now it's over. Why not leave it at that?

You're a ball of unresolved inner turmoil. It's more a matter of you not wanting to deal with it as opposed to everything else. If anything you're a little embarrassed to crave contact after you'd expressly forbidden it days ago. For some, seven days might not be that long but for you it was almost too long to be away from him. Now you're at a crossroads unsure of what to do.

It could be possible that fate really wants you both to remain with the vicinity of one another. The notion isn't as far fetched as one would think. The both of you need each other for different reasons, what those are exactly, who knows? And rolling with your assumptions can be dangerous. Or are you thinking too much into it?

"Before everything happened. I never got the chance to ask you how everything went." You remarked.

"The mission was a success. No complications." The unwavering certainty in which he makes statements is nothing short if intriguing - he says what he means and means what he says. No hesitation, no ifs, and's, or but's about it.

Small talk with him is a little strange but it's nothing you can't get used to. "That's good to know."

The man maintains an active schedule, unexpectedly departing if need be then returning at an indeterminate time once a job is completed. Most of his off days are spent with you in some fashion. A man like him is totally capable of separating his work from other aspects of life and has been doing it for quite some time before he met you.

Once the exchange is over you basically scramble to find a distraction that doesn't involve the two of you shifting into a deep conversation. And you have no choice but to pull out the old glass chess set that you won after an AR reading competition in high school. It sat at the top of your closet for so long and this is the first time you're actually used it. Honestly, you preferred to play games like Clue or Connect Four but it's all you have at your apartment. All the other games are at your parents house collecting dust somewhere. Playing games is just a means at passing the time until you can get past the awkwardness.

As it turns out, John is a damned good chess player. He takes the time to consider his movements and their outcome well before he actually touches the pieces. Whereas you tend to take risks and hope it works in your favor. He's definitely played chess before. You on the other hand, haven't played in years so you're understandably rusty. This is the second time he's humored you while playing games. He's just full of surprises. Regardless it's nice to be able to play anything with him. Games are considered a quasi-innocent approach in certain relationships. You've gotten to a point where these types of things are becoming commonplace and you're not bothered. In fact, you prefer it that way.

His face remains placid, patient and poised, waiting for you to make your next move. The nerve of him to still be serious even when playing a freaking board game.

In that moment, you realize that both of you are seizing each other up over a board game.

In a black household, games can get serious so quick especially when playing with family. Between spades and uno, someone will eventually have to argue or square up. With John it's more composed, more strategic.

The tension is wholly palpable in the room but it's not acknowledged by either of you just yet.

"Would you like to talk about it now?" As usual his baritone is composed and unflappable.

John's not really in the business biting his tongue and you put it off for as long as you could. "Yeah I guess." The hesitancy in your voice can't be cloaked. You don't have the energy to put up a fake nonchalant façade in front of him. Addressing it is better than avoiding the topic altogether.

Biting your lip, you had to gage your words carefully even though you really didn't know where to start. The topic is still a sensitive one for you and that is a matter of concern since you've turned into such a crybaby in such a short time. "I know when my emotions get the best of me I tend to get super dramatic. I really should've been an adult about it instead of running away." Frankly, that's not something you feel like you should beat yourself up about as it happens to the best of people. And you're prepared to work on it. "I still feel like I shouldn't have done what I did."

"But you did." He says.

"Yeah. I did."

"Anything else?"

You took a deep breath for this next subject. The anger and jealousy would always be quick to overtake you if you let it. "Concerning perkins…"

You sat up from your place on the floor. "Obviously she has some kind of issue with me, I don't know what it is. Not saying that I'm gonna eventually run into her again, but I can't rule it out. That being said, I don't want to be placed in a certain position and I don't want you to be placed in a certain position." You reasoned.

He merely watches you, silently allowing you to speak your peace without being interrupted.

"I can't tell you to stay away from her because you're a grown man but...given the tension between us and everything that's transpired till now…" You lapsed into silence, hoping your overall point is getting across.

You're staring at the pieces on the board. "I don't like the way she acts. Consider it a clash of personalities."

From the first interaction, you could tell that you weren't going to vibe with her. Hired killer or not, she had one more time to try you and her ass is grass. You'll swallow a jean jacket before you ever let her play with you again. She might have guns but you have a few cousins that like to pistol play too. It's really whatever at this point.

John inclines his head. "Understandable."

Oh. That's it?

Most men would fight against it but you have to remember that John isn't like most men.

"Oh yeah. I did say that." You flush. Your memory isn't the best especially when you're in your feelings and spewing word vomit. "Is that...okay with you?"

He brushes a calloused thumb over your head. "Yes. It is. I will hold you to your word."

"Um...what word?"

He silently chuckles and your jaw nearly drops. So he can laugh. "If I'm not mistaken, I believe you stated to me that you are committed to this."

You heart flutters. Though it's not an admission of love it still held the implication.

"Did you work while I was gone?"

"No."

"That's...unusual. I haven't been doing much either just trying to get my head right. Doing random stuff."

"...like going to the gym?"

"Yeah...wait how did you know I-" In that moment, your brows nearly disappeared into her hairline. There's no way. You didn't hear that right.

Did he just-

He couldn't have known that unless… "Have you been following me?" You whispered.

His face is void of any emotion and the silence that follows deafening. This is more telling than an actual verbal response and it makes your heart drop to your stomach. You can't believe it.

He saw you. He knew that you went to the gym with Tre. And is it you or did you detach a hint of jealousy in his voice at the implication. Maybe you're just imagining it. You're pleasantly surprised at this new development. You just can't believe that he would do something like that - you seriously didn't take him for the type.

It's one thing for you to do it but it's another entirely for him to partake. First he's saving you from bad guys not he's following you places. What a revelation. Now you both are pretty much even. Though you think he just likes to get his get back. You're learning more and more about him as time goes on.

How could you have forgotten who you were dealing with? John Wick is a man of focus. Once he sets his sights on you, it's virtually impossible to escape.

Hell, you don't even know what to say right now. He just threw you for a loop in the most unexpected way. All that time you spent feeling horrible thinking you overstepped your boundaries for him to go and do the exact same thing and seemingly not feel bad about it. The real question is, how are you gonna move now knowing this?

So you popped up on him and he's following you. In a way you're, basically matching each other's energy. You love to see it.

In your mind, it's not wrong to feel possessive over him. As a matter of fact, it's just a reality that he'll have to get used to from now on. He shouldn't mind since he's following you places as well.

Time passes by extremely fast and he's probably gotten about ten wins under his belt. You're heated about it but you refuse to quit on a loss. Though debatable circumstances, you end up winning the very last round albeit barely. You suspect that he might've helped as he didn't play as skillfully the last time. Not that you'll admit it but a win is a win. Nothing's gonna stop you from celebrating victory.

In retrospect, you're not entirely sure if the break was the best thing for either of you. The break was essentially you challenging yourself to see how long you could go without seeing him. That's all you could chalk it up to when everything was said and done. In the end, nothing was really accomplished. You pushed him away for a duration in the hopes of ridding yourself of the love you have for him only to hurt yourself in the process and inadvertently punish him for something he didn't have control over. You were so deep in your own feelings that you completely overlooked how he might have felt. It was foolish and you feel foolish.

It's only now that you're realizing that you might've done this just to avoid telling him how you really feel. After all, you'd still woken up in his bed the next morning after having been taken care of the previous night.

As far as you're concerned, you still don't trust his colleague, you still hold some insecurities in your heart and you still love him. Therefore the overall point of the break is lost. Pointless. It had all been for nothing.

Once the game is over, John joins you in bed. A soft sigh leaves your lips when you comfortably settle your body over his, laying your head on his abdomen. He breathes deeply under your head, lightly pushing your head up and down. You're content to just hug him like a giant teddy bear for the time being. Shrek 2 is playing on the tv in your bedroom and you're fully engrossed like it's your first time seeing it. You can practically recite the movie word for word, since you used to watch it over and over like a maniac. And before long you're engaging him in a riveting conversation about how the movie is a masterpiece. Though you doubt he's seen the movie before.

"Shrek saved Fiona from a castle guarded by a dragon in the first movie then they fell in love by the end."

He has no way of knowing this but this movie has spawned some of the greatest memes since SpongeBob.

You can't help that your body tends to naturally gravitate towards him. It's almost like you're trying to make up for all the time spent away from him, not being able to physically touch him like this. The man never ceased to cross your mind while you were apart. Reconciling with him is all you wanted. It's so easy to be attracted to his aura and how he carries himself. For you, it's important to feel safe around him and his energy allows for it. To top it off, your body has grown ridiculously hot just being close to him.

Before you met John, you only missed men after 10:59pm, other than that they served no real purpose for you.

As you both bask in the companionable silence, a hand is weaving through your hair and the action might lull you to sleep again. His stomach is firmer than you thought it would be. His body is soft but solid or more accurately stiff with tension just like yours. There's something magnetic about him that pulls you in every time. From what you've been told, quiet men absolutely love outgoing women. Big dick men are quiet as hell too. He's a prime example.

Great. Just great. Three minutes into cuddling and your pussy is already throbbing. With him you tend to get horny quicker than quick. It's kinda sad that you can't get through one movie without wanting to jump his bones.

You're feeling mischievous and needy. John took care of you and comforted you after last night and now you want him to comfort you in another way. Now that you think about it, the most intimate part of him is only a few inches from your face. There's nothing wrong with a little rubbing. You slide a hand up to palm it. You softly fondled the bulge in his pants. Since last night, you noticed that touches have been kept at a minimum. Someone would eventually have to give in to the physical need you both have for one another.

Not a single word has to be spoken between you two. Your skin is tingling excitedly, pulse rising. The anticipation is at an all time high. You don't exactly know where you're actions will lead you or how he'll react but you're about to fuck around and find out. Both of you are pent up and in need of an outlet from all the stress that's been present for weeks. He's in the clear to fuck you, suck you, and do all the things he hasn't been able to since he returned from his mission.

God...you want to feel him.

Only after a moment's hesitation, you finally decide to look into his handsome visage with his dark facial hair and chiseled jawline. Warmth spreads across your face as you look at him. From the heated look on his face, he's about to wreck you.

Your heart is jackhammering like crazy, belly churning uncontrollably. It doesn't help that your body is literally anticipating what was coming and it's nearly trembling with delight. Truthfully, there's not much you've explored in the arena of sexuality. You're not a psychic but you think you're about to receive some post break dick.

John's length is already standing at attention when you pull the throbbing veiny muscle out. He's so heavy and warm in your hand. Watching intently as your hand works over him like silk over steel. You caught the subtle tightening of his shoulders as you immediately started mouthing at him, wrapping your lips around the head and swirling your tongue into the small slit. You mainly focus on that vein on the underside of his dick before licking up a bead of pre-cum oozing from the slit. His thighs are so tense and your jaw has to open wide for you to swallow some of him down.

Instantly, you hear his breath hitch. He doesn't make a lot of vocalizations during sexual activity so when he does it always shocks you.

Suddenly, the interest in foreplay just isn't present anymore.

John positions you to lie flat on the bed and the power exchange is clear. He's the one meant to lead and dictate in the bedroom. You can't do anything but surrender under his sexual expertise. Though the torrent of affliction there's always a driving need to be touched. It probably didn't help that he was on you like you reeked of pheromones.

He's busy running his capable hands over your brown skin and showering your breasts with lavish attention. Your skin felt as if it might melt away with the way it was burning under his touch. He nipped at your earlobe gently, moving down to lick at the curve of your neck. You incline his head upwards and seal your lips over his, purring when John's wet tongue probes the inside of your warm mouth passionately. Both of you are hurriedly peeling away at each fabric of clothing until none cover your bodies anymore.

The positioning is something new with him folding your legs up and over your head. You're essentially folded in half and you know he's trying to do some damage. There's immense pressure in your stomach and your mobility is completely limited to the point where you aren't able to move unless he allows you to. You gasped at the first entry and it turns into a groan when he finally bottoms out. Working the stiff flesh into your overly receptive body, you're surely wet enough for a smooth entry. All the while, calm brown eyes are staring straight into yours, the imperceptible softness is present in them once again.

He slides in and out with long satisfying strokes of dick and the angle is the deepest it's ever been. He was making you feel that shit too. You're already squirming and shaking against the onslaught of ecstasy.

In a language you still understand, he whispers what you can only assume to be praises in your ear. His voice is level and remnants of his body heat is all over yours. Your mind is already in and out of consciousness and you don't know which way is up right now. You manage to hold his gaze until your eyes ultimately roll back, breathing unsteady.

He's applying enough pressure to make you moan out, continuously piercing the velvety heat of your cunt. The scent of him so close is tantalizing.

Through all this, John is totally silent in response to your cries.

Reopening your heavily-lidded eyes, you peered up to see him stroking his dick while hungrily gazing at your sopping core. The friction is driving you up the mattress in the most delicious way. When he aimed the thrusts a little to the right you wailed like a slut. This is nastier than some of the raunchiest porn. Your hands scramble to find something to hold unto.

Though you hate to admit it, you're straining having to take him in his position. He's really putting his back into it. It's honestly tortuous what he's doing but it feels so fucking good.

Why were you ever upset with this man?

With him doing what he's doing he won't ever have to worry about a break again.

He's stroking the shit out of you and that slow, hard pace has your body on lock. You're experiencing a different feeling, one you've never felt before. John's dick is simply immaculate and that's on Mary had a little lamb. It took a conscious effort to pull in a few breaths of air. Searing warmth is emanating from you in waves and your insides are left twisted in knots. Soon perspiration is coating your overwrought body.

You were about two seconds from erupting when he suddenly pulls out unexpectedly. The confusion doesn't have time manifest properly before your entire waist is upended towards his face and in a split second he's devouring your womanhood. Leaving your labia more soaked than it already was.

He must really miss you to stop in the middle of sex and eat your pussy like Sunday dinner. Running his tongue over the slit, using the twirling pink muscle to get to the hidden bundle of nerves underneath. Laving over your pussy indulgently. It's tiring enough having to deal with a tentative tongue like his. A long finger slips inside, the minor penetration making you suck in a harsh breath. Soon after the dam breaks and explosive tremors rock your body as a result.

You can't even speak and you realize that you might cry. It's no wonder why you fell for him so quickly. He has to know what he's doing. He has no business giving it to you like this. It feels so heavenly that you think you might die.

You're not overreacting, you actually might fucking die.

He wasn't even giving you time to rest. The position is changed while you pant, trying to come down from your high. Pressing chest to chest, John rests most of his weight on you, keeping your legs up while he's hands are stationery at your shoulders. His eyes are burning into your soul as he swiftly reattaches his mouth to yours. Saliva is being salaciously exchanged. In just that instance, you don't give a damn who's upset you're not leaving this. You can't focus on anything than him drilling you with his hand providing added stimulation to your clit.

A melody of whimpers and moans quickly engulf the room. Your reactions are on full display for him and you think he revels in it. Between your hair and flushed pleasure-etched face, you must be looking wild as hell.

This is his second time pulling out and you think he's deliberately denying himself an orgasm.

Lifting your flower back into his salivating mouth, drinking every bit of sweetness that's flowing from you. Shit, you're getting dizzy.

The way he's slurping on your clit makes you weak with desire. He's making your whole world spin. You're on the edge of climax just waiting to be pushed off. The knots are starting to unravel. Before long your entire frame is seizing up and you're falling apart at the seams. The overstimulation is sinful.

Smearing pre-cum and your slick over his erection with his left hand while he's devouring the sight of you with his eyes. It's incredibly sensuous.

He aligned his shaft back to your slick opening and dived right back in. One of his hands comes up to cradle your head, staring straight into your eyes while he ploughs you. While he's doing all of this nasty shit to you, his face maintains an indecipherable expression though his eyes are practically burning with desire while he surges forward into the most saturated part of your body. Watching him move his hips is hypnotizing.

"YA skuchal po tebe...YA skuchal po tebe." He murmured into your ear, his tone is quieter and deep. The deepness of his voice turns you on in ways you can barely comprehend. His voice is reverberating through your mouth and shoots sensation straight down to your pussy. You don't know what he's saying but you can hear how strained he sounds.

With that, your body detonated like a bomb, back arching upwards, toes painfully curling. The coil in your stomach bursts and before you know it, you're squirting juices all over him. John must've unlocked something in your body because that's never happened before. He just keeps going without a single pause in rhythm, doesn't stop stabbing into that sweet spot. You have no control over it either, it's just leaking out like an outside water hose. And it's so embarrassing but you can't feel anything other than spine tingling ecstasy. The rush of endorphins is too much for you to handle.

Whereas your head is still in the clouds, he's still using his deep voice to talk you through a nut.

When a long cry is emitted from your mouth John's tongue seeps out to circle the outline of your parted lips, heated torso is coated in your wetness. The bedsheet totally ruined. You just know he's gonna leave you a bigger stack of cash after this.

After ten good thrusts he stills, teeth burying themselves into your neck, pumping creamy semen into you. Why does getting nutted in feel so good?

You released a small sigh of contentment as you nestled against his body. Sleepiness creeping up on you in waves but you're determined to fight it for as long as you can.

The whole session had provided you the reassurance that you needed. Both of you just lie there completely naked, relaxing in the enclosure of his side and arm. All you hear is breathing, slow and steady. The clean up can wait. The only bad thing is, someone had to sleep in the wet spot and it wouldn't be you.

You're slightly drowsy and bone tired but determined to stay awake this time.

One thing still puzzled you though...how did he know that you were in trouble? You'd asked before but he never did provide a clear answer. That's one question that you desperately wanted answered.

"John?"

He regarded you for a moment before closing his eyes once more. "Yes?"

"You still haven't told me how you found me…"

He never hesitates to give you complete honesty every time and you know that this is nothing to lie about. But you don't understand why he's so reluctant to tell you. It's not like you'll be upset about it. You just wanted to know. There's a sneaking suspicion that he just wanted to keep the answer to himself.

What a stubborn man. It's not like you have room to talk but...

You had to try something different. "I want to apologize for-" You started.

"I told you it's fine."

Okay. So he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. You can understand that. Now that that was out of the way…

"...um. Can you tell me more about what you do? I'd really like to know." You voiced, suddenly eager to maintain conversation.

"What about it specifically?"

"I don't know...whatever you want to tell me I guess."

"Mm." He replied.

"How long have you been doing it?"

"All my life." He sounds so detached.

You silently calculate the depth of everything he's saying, letting the pieces come together.

"Did you used to work for the mob?"

"Years before."

"So are you freelance now?"

"That's one way to put it." He drawled. "A hitman's availability is based solely on the client's ability to pay."

Okay, you can understand that. He's basically saying that if they ain't talking money then he doesn't want any dealings. You can't explain just how relatable that is. He's in the business to get paid, bottom line. John is definitely not with the bullshit.

"Aren't you supposed to be more...covert? Like live underground in a secret chamber or something."

John dryly commented like it was nothing but it was certainly something to you. This is the most he's ever talked and you're ecstatic.

"You watch too many movies."

"Yeah so?"

Suddenly, you get it now - why you're to remain a closely guarded secret. And you aren't looking to be collateral damage in the wake of his enemies.

"What about the people that took me...were they-"

"Lowly sex traffickers with no affiliation." He asserted.

"So people like you...hitmen. Do they have a normal life outside of killing?" The question hangs awkwardly in the air.

He was silent for a while, like he was considering his answer. "The vast majority cannot maintain a normal life. It's undead of."

But what about you? You wanted to ask. Though you figured it would be better just to leave it at that. You already know he's made allowances for you that wouldn't be possible for anyone else. For that reason, you're accustomed to believe that this ongoing relationship between you two is something that just happened and now you both can't leave each other alone. Before you, he was probably used to being alone, isolated.

You can't see him offering his assassination services to anymore who can't afford him.

"What about the police? The government? Do they know what's going on?"

John stares at the ceiling for a moment. "There's a long-lasting agreement. The worlds are kept expressly separate so long as either abides by their designated rules."

Oh wow. It's all so interesting. From what you've gathered, there's a world of killers and a normal one. He operates in a murder-based economy.

"What about people like me? The people in the gray area."

"Civilians who know too much are either killed or sworn to secrecy."

Secrecy? You don't remember swearing not reveal anything about what you knew. Even though you'd have to be the biggest dumbass on the planet to even think of running your mouth. Maybe he had enough trust in you not to tell. Keeping your mouth closed is the best thing you can do seeing as your very life depends on it. And last time you checked you weren't trying to die so…

"Well whenever you get sent overseas again...can you bring me some more cookies?" A blush creeping up the side of your neck.

"Okay."

It goes without saying that John Wick is a criminal undertaker. You choose not to think about all the people he's killed. If he was going around killing innocent people then it would be a different story. But he's not and you don't have the justification to question his actions from a moral standpoint.

When you glance up you notice John dozing off obviously tired.

You sit up hastily, placing a hand on his chest to rouse him. "Wait! Last question…"

"Hn."

Biting your lips, you considered your words carefully before you spoke, not really knowing if you wanted to ask or not. "That word you say all the time. Milaya...tell me what it means."

Heavily lidded brown eyes shift to yours. "It means many things…"

"Like?"

His eyes close once more. "It's Russian. A term of affection mostly reserved for a beautiful woman."

With him being the hardened man he is, you could never really tell what he thought of you. Now you have confirmation from his own mouth. It was enough to make your stomach do backflips. "You think I'm beautiful?" You whispered.

"And this is surprising to you?" He questions.

Your heart is beating extra fast now. "A little."

"Hey John-"

"Sleep."

"But I have something to tell-"

"Sleep."

With that, you lowered your head back unto his chest, mind racing a mile a minute.

You're a prisoner of your connection with him, heart held captive by your indecisiveness. His own predilection towards you is complex enough. And yet, in a way you have no qualms about welcoming it with open arms. It's terrifying and remarkable. Being sprung on him is truly something.

Now you know him better than you have before. You know that you can't run from your feelings forever.

Though at the same time, that love might hinder the status of the relationship in ways unprecedented. You've often thought that he might like the situation as it stands. But how long would it go on?

The play-pretend game has long since been passed and now you need to come to terms with that in order to act accordingly. You've broken down in front of him, confided in him during your lowest moments. You can't for the life of you understand why it's so hard being upfront about your feelings. In the back of your mind, you're afraid that it's not possible given who he is - what he is. You could let things be as they are just like in the beginning. Just be happy with what you can get and imagine all the things you cannot.

Even if nothing comes of it, he has to know. You can worry about the outcome later.

You let some time pass before you ultimately closed your eyes, letting the rise and fall of your lover's chest lull you to sleep.

A quick rundown of the conversation flashing within your brain like movie frames. Like all the information passed to you is being stored in the deepest recess of your subconscious. And your eyes swiftly flicked open.

Wait...is John Wick Russian?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: “YA skuchal po tobe.” - “I missed you.”
> 
> Tumblr: teejaywyatt1.tumblr.com


End file.
